Love After Death
by Mallie1227
Summary: Sam is arranged to be married to Prince Dash. She'd rather marry a dead man! In fact, that's precisely what she does! Then the deceased Prince Dan interrupts the wedding to claim his wife. During Sam's in the Ghost Zone, she discovers some rather bizarre secrets about her husband's past life. Rather deadly secrets... Based off of Corpse Bride.
1. Chapter 1

**I know I said I'd never write Danny Phantom fanfiction again, yet here I am doing just that. There are times when a person needs to eat their own words and for me, now is this time. I watched **_**Corpse Bride**_** last night and had a wonderful dream based off of that and Danny Phantom that I wrote down and just had to let out. It's got a bit more twisting to it, so it's not completely based off **_**Corpse Bride**_**.**

**Fun Fact: I actually do have a transplant. I've been in and out of hospitals and have had multiple surgeries all my life because of a rare and nearly fatal disorder I was born with. Thank God the transplant has finally stabilized me. **

**Even More Fun Fact: **_**Feline Planet **_**is still up for adoption. **

_Red roses and chocolate sweets_

_Diamond rings and heart-shaped treats_

_Cherubs flying and couples kissing_

_Men proposing and church bells ringing_

_Tis the adoring signs we've come to know_

_how to tell the world, how to show_

_you've fallen for that evil, yet unlawless art._

_Someone has gone and stolen your heart._

_By your darling's hand, you're captured like a cage does for a dove,_

_and now you want to shout about how much you're in love._

_So you look for those symbols that you ought to know by sight. _

_You're beloved's so precious, everything must be done right. _

_One slight offense and your happy life is history. _

_You'll be all alone for all of eternity. _

_Now, what if I told you, and please do bear with me on this,_

_that all those love signs are utterly ridiculous._

_What if meant violet morning glories were a lover's best approach?_

_Or a tombstone and, perhaps, even an amethyst brooch?_

_And who is to say you'll be alone forever (for those of you who haven't clicked away in disgust)?_

_love can only be found in life? Is that a law? Is that truly a must? _

_I tell you a dear reader, that is most certainly not true._

_It's not true for me and it won't be for you._

_What is my proof, you ask? How can I surely tell?_

_Because it was told to me, and now, to you as well._

_I heard this story back when I had my transplant. My health had always been frail. _

_I was only a young girl of nineteen when Death himself had told me this tale. _

_As I said, I was having my transplant on a cold October night._

_At six precisely, the anesthesia had completely blocked my sight. _

_I wandered round the darkened realm without a true destiny._

_Nothing odd at all, at least not for me. _

_I had been there before for many different reasons and various times._

_Oddly enough, that's where I usually come up with these silly rhymes. _

_Round and round I went with nothing to see and nothing to do_

_when I heard a deep voice hiss, "My dear child, thought you got away, didn't you?"_

_I giggled and grinned before turning to face my old friend._

"_Let me guess," I mocked, "Has my time come yet again?"_

_Death gave a snort. His breath slightly moved the hood of his dark robe._

"_I won't lose you this time, now come on." And with his scythe he began to probe_

_me towards the direction of the familiar green door where behind I would wait and see_

_what my body would look like after the transformation to make me rather ghostly. _

_I opened the door and led the way out as Death stayed close to my right side._

_He steered me as I waved my greetings to the curious spirits. Then I eyed_

_the direction we happened to be going and saw it was out of the ordinary._

_Death noticed my expression and sighed, "You've fought a most extraordinary_

_fight, more than even the most scared of men. And the times you've escaped _

_is more than I dare count." I wrinkled my nose as I answered my draped_

_companion. "Fight? What fight? I've never challenged you or swung a punch._

_It's not my fault you were more interested in your empty stomach and tasty lunch_

_to pay attention to where I was going." He growled and hissed, "You ran off."_

"_I didn't mean to," I argued, "I had to turn away so I could cough._

_Then I saw the door and got curious. I didn't know it led back to the hospital."_

"_You've always got excuses, don't you?" he sighed, "No matter what the actual_

_truth is, I won't lose you this time. So, I've finally received permission_

_to take you to my house as a short-cut on the way to your deadly transformation."_

"_This has been what," I tilted my head, "The 55__th__ time now that we've met_

_due to infections, IV replacements, twisted intestines, and god knows what other health threat?"_

"_I don't keep count anymore. Didn't you hear me?" he growled, poking me harder, "Now come along."_

_We came across a log cabin with a log roof and door. Never would I believe this house would belong_

_to my skeletal host. He grabbed my wrist and from his robe, took out a long skeleton key._

_He unlocked the door and swung it wide. He placed his bony hand on my shoulder and led me_

_through the doorway. A delicious aroma made me smile. "Making coffee?" I asked._

"_We'll be waiting a while," Death answered, opening another door. The scent became unmasked,_

"_So, yes, I made several pots. Want a cup?" I nodded as he went in the kitchen. He glided in_

_with two black mugs. I accepted my cup, rising my eyebrows at its side with the pirate skull grin_

_and femur bones behind it. "I didn't know you were a fan of pirates," I became all giggly._

"_I'm not," he sighed, pointing me to a brown leather couch, "Clockwork thinks he's so funny._

_Anyways, my dear," he sat down beside me, "Now you're finally going to die, any regrets?"_

"_Only one," I answered, sipping my brew, "There is only one thing in my heart that truly upsets_

_me and my entire being. I've never had a true love. I've never loved a man and a man has never _

_loved me." Death looked at me before bursting out into a fit of laughter, "That's it? My dear, after_

_you are properly dead, you'll have all of eternity to find your true love." I looked at him rather odd,_

"_But then, it'll be too late, won't it? I'll be dead-" He interrupted, "And so? Love travels all abroad._

_You think it ends in life? It remains in death. The dead can love just as much as the living and even_

_the living itself. Understand?" I slowly nodded, "Yes, I suppose. Dead parents love their living children."_

"_You still don't understand," Death shook his skull, "A dead man can be dead and yet he can_

_love a living woman he never met in life." I stared bewildered, "I still don't understand."_

_He sighed again and rose from the sofa. His footsteps echoed from the kitchen and then he back._

_He returned with several hot coffee pots and more cookies than the Girl Scouts could hope to pack_

_to sell to their neighbors and relatives. My friend refilled our mugs and sat down again._

"_Since we've got plenty of time, I suppose I could tell, from the beginning to the end,_

_the story of a girl and her graved love." I interrupted, "Don't you mean grave love?"_

"_No," he insisted, "I do not. He was dead and buried and she was alive and above_

_with the other living. Now are you going to shut up and listen or what?"_

_I picked up a cookie to eat, but otherwise kept my mouth shut_

_as I hung on to his every word about the dead, yet noble Prince Dan_

_and how he met his wife, though she was still alive, the lovely Sam. _


	2. Chapter 2

**CSIalchemist: Thank you. You know how **_**The Nightmare Before Christmas **_**starts off with a poem? I was sort of imitating that. Also, the very last chapter will have a poem too. **

**Heracelio: Thank you. I've been told I have a gift with humor. Life's just too short to take seriously all the time. Getting a bit bored with **_**F**_**e**_**line Planet**_**, so, afraid not. **

**Fun Fact: Having a cold sucks. Having a cold with little to no immune system to fight it sucks ass. Having a cold with little to no immune system to fight it and having to wake up at seven the next morning to go to a three hour lab sucks ass with a vacuum. **

**More Fun Fact: **_**Feline Planet**_** is up for adoption. **

"Ms. Manson? Ms. Manson. Ms. Manson!"

The girl blinked her violet eyes as the sharp voice startled her back to reality. The rather short priest glared at her with his neon green eyes. A sigh from her left made her look at the tall, blonde man besides her. The man rolled his own dark violet eyes in obvious annoyance.

"Oh," she gasped, pushing a strand of her dark hair behind her hair, "Sorry. I must have been day-dreaming again."

Loud groans of frustration came from audience behind her. The loudest came from the middle-aged redhead dressed in bright pink.

"Samantha!" the woman leaned over the pew in front of her to hiss at her daughter, "Will you please focus! Honestly! And in front of the prince for god's sakes!"

Sam wrinkled her nose at being called her former name.

"Oh, never mind that, Mrs. Manson," Prince Dashiel Baxter chuckled, as he grabbed Sam's hand into his own, "It's not every girl that gets to marry a prince. She's only just a bit nervous. Tis all. That's why wedding rehearsals were invented. Isn't that right, Samantha?"

"I can speak for myself, thank you," she yanked her hand out of her fiancée's grip, "And my name is Sam."

"Of course it is, darling," the prince turned back to face the grey-haired priest, "Now, Father Bertrand, if you could repeat the question?"

"As you wish, your Highness," the priest picked up his Bible and cleared his throat, "Now then, Ms. Manson, once again, do you, Samantha, take this man to be your lawful and wedded husband until death do you part?"

"Yeah, sure," she shrugged, "Whatever."

The room was once again filled with loud groans.

"Samantha!" her mother leaned even closer.

"What? What I do this time?"

"Ms. Manson!" the priest fiddled with his mustache; clearly trying to get his hands to do something else than slap the girl silly, "Please pay attention! A simple 'I do' will do quite nicely!"

"Yes, darling," the prince sighed as he rolled his eyes again, "Please just say what you're supposed to."

"Well, does it honestly matter what I say?" Sam answered, crossly, "I'm 'supposed to,' as you so helpfully put it, say 'yes,' and I did. What difference does it make if I say it the traditional way or have a bit of fun with it?"

"You can have fun after the ceremony, Samantha."

"For the thousandth time, it's Sam!"

"Samantha!" Mrs. Manson leaned over so closely that she nearly collapsed in the lap of a young servant girl sitting in it, "Don't you shout! It's most unladylike, especially for a future queen!"

"Maybe I don't want to be queen," she hissed back to her mother.

"Father Bertrand," Prince Dash quickly turned away from the argument, knowing fully well it would end badly, "Once more."

"Yes, your Majesty," now it was the priest's turn to roll his eyes, "Ms. Manson, for once, will you please just do exactly as you're supposed to? You do want to get married, don't you?"

"Not to him!" Sam pointed angrily to her aggravated fiancée.

"Samantha!" this time, poor Mrs. Manson did fall over the pew and land in the surprised servant's lap, "What have I told you about embarrassing the family!"

She didn't have time to say much else, for the annoyed girl roughly shoved the woman off her. An old woman in a wheelchair took this opportunity to speak up.

"Oh, for god's sakes, Pamela," she cried, "If there's anybody who's embarrassing the family, it's you. Why you haven't even apologized to that poor young lady you crashed into!"

"Mother," a middle-aged blonde man, who had so far managed to stay out of the argument between his wife and daughter, reached over to the wheelchair and tried to quiet the old woman, "Please do calm down. Your heart, mother-"

"If there's anybody's heart here that needs fixing, it's that woman that I have the disgrace to call my daughter-in-law."

"Why won't you die, you old hag?" Mrs. Manson brushed the imaginary dust off her dress as she and Ida Manson had an angry staring contest.

"Mother, Pamela, please!"

While Jeremy Manson tried, yet again, to break up another fight between his family, the prince's eyes became narrower and narrower as he lost his patience.

"Father Bertrand," Prince Dash shouted, angrily, no longer caring about holding back temper, "I thought I told you to continue on!"

"As you wish, your Highness," came the droll reply.

"Oh, that's enough!"

Everyone immediately became silent and stared in fear at the tall, commanding redhead. Queen Penelope had dressed rather finely for the occasion, though it was only a rehearsal. Her long, blood red dress covered her entire legs and a silver mink cape draped over her shoulders. A golden crown sat upon her fire-colored head. The diamond jewel displayed on the front of it perfectly matched her diamond necklace and earrings.

"I think," she spoke softly, but everyone heard her for everyone was still silent, "That were all just quite too excited for tomorrow's events to even think properly. Yes, that's it. We're all too nervous and excitable. Wouldn't you agree, Samantha?"

"It's Sam," her future daughter-in-law grumbled, though the queen did not hear her.

But the queen's son did. Prince Dash glared at her and roughly elbowed her in the ribs. A low grunt escaped her lips, but again, the queen either did not hear Sam or else she ignored her. Sam tenderly massaged the sore spot and glared back at her fiancée.

"Now, I think what's best is that all we take a few minutes to get a fresh breath of air. Don't you all agree? Father Bertrand!"

The priest stood at attention, ready to obey the lovely Queen Penelope's every command, "Yes, your Majesty!"

"I think we shall take a break for now. We shall all meet again in an hour!"

And with that, the royal queen led herself and her handmaidens out of the church with Father Bertrand close behind. Prince Dash followed his mother, but not before giving his fiancée a few departing words.

"Remember, Samantha. One hour sharp!"

"It's Sam," she hissed to the prince's back.

"Oh, honestly, Samantha!" Pamela marched right up to her and grabbed her left arm to lead her away, "Is this how you plan to start your new life? Embarrassing the family?"

Ida Manson started as her son pushed her chair to join them, "If you ask me-,"

"And I didn't!"

"If you ask me, you're doing a fine job of embarrassing this family by yourself, Pamela."

"Die already, you crazy old bat!"

"Mother, Pamela," Jeremy sighed, "When will you two ever get along?"

"When Hell freezes over!" Pamela screeched as their footsteps echoed through the church's hallways.

"Actually," Sam piped up, taking her gaze off of the beautiful stained glass and ancient stone walls, "In Dante's _Inferno_, the last circle of Hell is completely frozen. The sinners who have been treacherous in their past lives must spend eternity all frozen. So, technically, Hell is frozen over."

"That explains a lot," Ida replied, casually, "For one thing, I thought Jeremy would marry such a brat like your mother when Hell froze over."

"Shut up and die, hag!"

"Mother! Pamela!"

"You need to keep your nose out of those silly books and art museums and start paying attention to what's going around you, girl!" Pamela ignored her husband, "What is the use of Monty's Accio-"

"Dante's _Inferno_," Sam yanked her arm back out of her mother's grip while glaring at her.

"Whatever," Pamela snorted, "The point is what use could it possibly do you as future queen?"

"Maybe I don't want to be queen."

"Oh, here we go, again," her mother sighed.

"Why do I have to marry him?"

"Because you need to uphold the Manson family's honor and name!"

"Too late," Ida chimed, "The unholy union between my son and Satan's wife has already tarnished it."

"I hope you get run over by a horse and carriage, damned witch."

"Mother! Pamela!"

"Anyways, Samantha," Pamela continued, "You should be honored that the prince has asked you to marry him! It's not every girl he asks to marry. He must really love you."

"Then why can't he get my name right," Sam stopped and glared at her feet, "And why does he treat me like I'm an annoyance. Is that what love is supposed to feel like?"

"Ask your father, my dear Sam," her grandmother sighed, "I'm sure he's got lots of experience what with being married to the devil's spouse."

"I hope the hospital says you'll die very soon, you psycho loon."

"Mother! Pamela!"

"He'll make a fine husband, Samantha," Pamela went over to her daughter to pat her on the back in reassurance, "Perhaps if you had less of those annoying reading and writing and art- Samantha, where is your corset?"

Sam grinned mischievously as she shrugged her shoulders. Ida giggled at her granddaughter's joke, but Pamela was not so amused.

"You're not wearing a corset? How on Earth can you possibly hope to pass as a proper young lady if you're not even dressed properly! For god's sakes, Samantha! Oh, and in front of the queen and the prince! Does the prince know you're not wearing a corset?!"

"Oh, if he does," Ida snickered, "I don't think he'd be criticizing Sam so much! If anything, he'd be practically staring at her with such pure joy!"

"Go bleed to death on your bed, stupid old woman!"

"Mother! Pamela!"

"Who needs corsets anyways!" Ida continued, "I say burn them! Burn them all!"

"Never mind the hospital! You should die in a mental institution, you sick loon!"

"Mother! Pamela! Please!"

"Here now!" the old lady grabbed the nearest candle and steered her chair out of Jeremy's grip, "Come here, Pamela! Let's burn yours first!"

"Are you mad, you sick old woman!"

"Mother, put that down!"

Sam watched in amusement and fell into laughing fits as her grandmother steered the wheelchair round and round chasing after her mother and burn the cursed corset. All the while, Pamela shouted death threats and Jeremy pleaded for the madness to stop as he chased his mother. Luckily, Ida had managed to maneuver herself out of her son's way, knocking over a table in the process. She wheeled herself over to Sam and winked at her.

"Now would be a great time to escape, don't you think, dearie?" she whispered quickly before taking off after Pamela again.

Sam took the hint and quietly crept past her outraged parents. When she judged herself to be far enough, she bolted for the door and ran outside just in time to dodge a flaming dress that had been carelessly tossed aside.

"Fine then! If you won't let me set your corset on fire I'll start with my own!"

"I hope you die of third-degree burns, you bloody old fool!"

"Mother! Put your dress back on! DEAR GOD MOTHER! PUT YOUR CORSET BACK ON!


	3. Chapter 3

**RazedragonOAO: Thanks!**

**CSIalchemist: My parents can barely stand their in-laws. I'm almost positive an all-out fight would start between them if they weren't too concerned about what us kids would think. **

**Fun Fact: Good lord. I have just learned while doing laundry today that I go through a lot of bras and panties in two weeks. **

**More Fun Fact: **_**Feline Planet **_**free to a good author. **

Sam placed a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles as she walked down the dirt path. No need for a lamp tonight. The full moon would be sufficient. She continued down the path as her thoughts turned from her grandmother to her fiancée.

Prince Dashiel Baxter was adored by practically every female creature within the kingdom of Casper. And Sam had to admit, it wasn't too difficult to see why. He was wealthy, powerful, athletic, and very handsome. But he was also selfish, manipulative, ill-tempered, and had the brains of a garden slug.

The queen was no better. Many people complimented Queen Penelope for her cleverness, cheerfulness, and extravagant beauty. Again, Sam would agree, but not without adding that Her Royal Highness was also vain, cruel, and sadistic. However, unlike her son, the queen was clever enough not to let her unfavorable side show whenever Sam was around. Not that it mattered. The prince gave Sam enough information for her to figure out what was really going on. Of course, he wasn't doing it knowingly. Usually he was rambling on over some useless nonsense whenever he revealed his mother's true plot, like the time he proposed.

Her father had always worked for the palace as far as Sam could remember. The Manson family had owned several gold mines all throughout the continent ever since the late 1400s. Her father would personally show Her Royal Highness several beautiful pieces of golden jewelry whenever she wished. Thus, Sam and Prince Dash were no strangers growing up, but neither were they friends. Which is why she was quite surprised when he asked for her hand. Since Sam's mother had been present, she immediately answered for her daughter and began planning the engagement party. When Sam had finally caught him alone to break off the engagement, the prince wouldn't let her speak.

"Oh, Samantha," he waved as he caught sight of her, "I'm glad I found you. Mother and I were talking and I agree that perhaps we should place a slightly costlier tax on all gold outside the kingdom's mines so that the peasants won't look elsewhere for jewelry."

"Wait," Sam forgot what she was going to do for a moment and began to question him, "But my father's mines would be taxed, too since they don't belong to the kingdom."

"I meant we place the tax after we inherit your father's mines," he rolled his eyes, "And besides, all that extra gold would make our kingdom one of the most powerful in the world."

"Wait," she folded her arms, "You're only marrying me for the stupid gold mines?"

"Yeah. Why else did you think I'd marry you?"

"Well, I don't know. Maybe, because you actually love me! And actually care about me and not my stupid money!"

"What are you complaining about? You're going to be queen after you marry me, aren't you?"

"No! Because I won't marry you! The wedding's off!"

"Oh, come on! Mother didn't tell me you'd complain this much!"

"What does she have to with it? This is between you and me!"

"What? You think I actually wanted to marry you? She had to bribe me with a new golden sword to propose to you!"

And that was it. That was what this was really about. Of course Sam told her parents what the prince , not had said, but either they didn't believe her or they didn't care. The thought of a member of the Manson family becoming royalty was much too overwhelming. So they forced to go through the engagement, letting the queen come one step closer to obtaining power over the kingdom's entire gold supply.

"Stupid wedding," Sam grumbled, kicking a pebble as she walked.

She looked up to see what else she could kick when she realize she was now near the front entrance. All that stood between her and freedom was the wooden fence which could easily open once one saw its little door was unlocked. Wasting no time, Sam yanked as hard as she could on that little door, but the prince's voice sent her back.

"Honestly," he whined, "How hard is it to say 'I do?' Why does that stupid girl insist on trying to ruin everything?"

"Calm yourself, Dash," came Her Highness' voice in an exasperated tone.

"I don't even want to marry her!"

"And she doesn't want to marry you, so at least you two agree on that."

"Why do I have to marry her? All the women in the kingdom adore me and I have to marry the one who hates me."

"Dashiel, I am trying to get this kingdom ready for you so you can immediately take over after I pass. Your union with Samantha will make you even richer than you've ever dreamed. Now all you have to do is put up with her."

Sam snorted and walked in the opposite direction. Looks like she wasn't getting out that way. She walked back down the dirt path. Then a sudden thought came into her head. Maybe she could exit out the back way. Sam stepped off the walkway and headed for the back of the stone building. A few steps to the left and a bit more to the right and Sam had managed to find her way there. She giggled at her success, but a sudden trip made her gasp in surprise.

"Oh!" a woman cried, "Ms. Manson, are you alright?"

Sam sharply turned her head towards the voice and grumbled when a familiar pink dress rustled in her direction. One of the bridesmaid dresses that the servant girls were wearing. Wonderful. Now she'd never be able to escape.

The girl offered her hand and Sam grudgingly accepted it so that she might stand up.

"Thanks, Ms. Star," she mumbled upon seeing the girl.

"Not a problem, but if I might ask, what on Earth are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing," Sam tried to look over the confused girl's shoulders, "I'm trying to find my way out of here."

"Well, you won't find it here, silly girl," the servant giggled, "The courtyard is behind you. Turn around and you'll be on the right track."

"I'm not going to the courtyard. I'm trying to escape it."

"But, Ms. Manson, whatever for? You must finish the wedding rehearsal so that you might marry Prince Dashiel tomorrow! Oh, aren't you excited!"

"No," Sam looked back, glaring at the direction n of the courtyard, "No, I'm not excited!"

"You're not!" Ms. Star gasped, "Oh, but Ms. Manson, why on earth not! You're marrying a prince! He'll be able to buy you whatever you want! Oh, and you'll become queen, too! It's practically every girl's dream to marry a prince!"

"Well, it's not my dream," Sam scowled, trying once again to get around Ms. Star, "I couldn't care less about being royalty or having whatever I want when it's only done to shut me up and not out of love."

"But every girl wants to marry a prince!"

Sam rolled her eyes and continued looking over Ms. Star's shoulders, "What's that path lead to? The one behind you?"

"What? That?" the servant pointed to it before shaking her head, "Oh, you don't want to go there Ms. Manson. It's nothing but a dusty old graveyard. Nothing to see but dead people and who wishes to see that?"

"I might," Sam decided she had enough with politeness and shoved past Ms. Star, "I rather like the morbidity of death."

"Oh, don't say that! Especially the day before your wedding! Who wishes to talk about their wedding with a prince when there's disgusting, dead people about!

"I'm willing to bet," she had to shout, for Ms. Star was too far away now to hear, "That a dead man has much more to offer me than a live one with all the money in the world!"

If Ms. Star had replied, Sam didn't hear. She continued walking until she found it. She stopped and gasped at the sight of the tombstones. Slowly, Sam walked on, stopping every to and then to read off a name. Not a single grave that she passed had any sort of flower or other vegetation on it. It appeared that not a single person here had no friends or family to mourn them. No one remember them, no one to care, and no one who could even bother to come by with a daisy or two.

And if there were flowers, they were just as dead as the cemetery's denizens. Poor, unhappy people. Sam's eyes went from one grave to the next, searching for any signs of remorse and memory. Then a bit of white caught her attention as she walked past. She turned around to see what it was, but the girl was too far away to make it out clearly. Slowly, Sam went back for a closer look, bending a bit as she approached it.

The bit of white turned out to belong to one of several flowers attached to dark green vine twisted upon a cracked tombstone. The white could be seen only in the flower's center. The rest of its petals were a deep, dark shade of violet. Sam gently touched one of the flowers' delicate petals as she tried to remember what sort of plant it was.

"Morning glory," she finally said, caressing its petals.

As she stroked the blossom, Sam knelt down and read the sad gravestone marker.

_His Royal Majesty the Prince Daniel James Masters of the Kingdom of Casper._

_The Only Son of His Royal Majesty the King Vladimir Evan Masters and Her Royal Majesty Queen Madeline Walker Masters of Casper. _

_April 3, 1865 – August 24, 1889_

_Casper Shall Miss Rising to the Glory of His Majesty_

Sam turned her attention back to the flower between her thumb and forefinger. She gave the petal another stroke before letting it fall.

"You were twenty-four," she whispered, staring at the vine, "And I was only four years old when you died. Perhaps if you had lived, I wouldn't be forced to marry the man who has taken your place and I would be free from this unhappy marriage."

As she finished, a gentle breeze blew around her body, but she welcomed it and did nothing protect herself from the chill.

"If there's one thing that comforts me is that Prince Dash is just as unhappy with this arrangement as I am. His mother's forcing him to do it to control my father's gold mines. And I'm forced to do it to 'uphold the family name' as my horrid mother likes to put it. She practically controls everything of my life. Grandma tries to help me, but she's becoming too weak in health to do much I'm afraid. And my father is so scared of my mother to protest her."

The cold chill into her ear, as if expressing its condolences.

"I wonder if you had to be forced into an unhappy marriage. My grandmother tells me that your mother, Queen Madeline, and Grandma tells me good things about your father. I highly doubt you'd be forced to marry a woman you despise. Not like my parents."

The wind danced around her head and played with her hair. Surprisingly, Sam felt comforted by this breeze, as if it was trying to ease her sorrows.

"I wonder if Mother would like you. I think she would, seeing as you were a prince. She's always likes to think herself of royalty. And having me marry that stupid Prince Dash only encourages her. I'd rather marry a dead man. Having a spirit for a husband would give me more satisfaction than having a prince as one, I'm willing to bet."

Sam looked down at the packed soil beneath her. Her knees were tired from their position, but she didn't care. Talking to the grave under a full moon with the gentle breeze answering her questions and concerns had been the only bit of peace she had ever had since she became engaged. A mischievous smile played on her lips.

"You know, I would much rather marry a corpse, but my mother wishes me to marry a prince. I don't see why we can't compromise. You're not married are you? Because, well, I know usually it's the man that proposes, and I know we've just met, but somehow, I feel like I know you already. I feel like you're really there and you truly do care. I haven't a ring, but I've got a brooch."

She unpinned the golden trinket from her dress. The raven-shaped jewelry shimmered in the moonlight, but it was its amethyst eye that shined the brightest.

"Your Majesty, Prince Daniel," she cleared her throat and presented her brooch to the grave, "Will you marry me and be my husband?"

The breeze circled round and round Sam, playing with her hair and blowing the skirt of her dress. All this made her giggle as she placed the brooch onto the compacted soil and buried it using a bit of some loose dirt around her.

"Then I declare us husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

The breeze stopped circling her body, but blew round her face. Sam lifted a morning glory from the grave and kissed it as she imagined her lover. An image of a tall, muscular man came to her imagination. He was wearing a black-and-white waistcoat with white trousers and black boots. Sam brushed aside a long, black strand of his hair so she might look into her husband's ocean blue eyes as he kissed her firmly on the lips. The hair joined the rest, landing midway down his back. Reluctantly, she broke off the kiss and reality came back once more.

"And so we're married," she sighed, "I suppose I ought to tell you my name. It's Sam. Not Samantha. Not Sammy. Sam. What would you like to be called? Daniel? Danny? Dan?"

The breeze had stopped at Daniel and Danny but blew softly at the last name.

"Dan. You want to be called Dan," Sam sighed, surprised at how certain she was, "Now then Dan, tomorrow when I am forced to wed Prince Dash, I can keep myself content with the knowledge that I am already secretly married to you, thus I may not be truly in union with him. Then, when I am finally dead, I can truly be happy and spend all of eternity with you. Here."

She pinched the flower she had kissed by the stem and picked it off the vine.

"Let me keep this morning glory. It shall be my wedding ring from you like my brooch is your ring from me."

She combed her hair with her fingers as she twisted and bent the stem so that it might stay in her hair.

"I'll have to fix that a bit to get it to stay forever," she grumbled.

Sam was about to say more, but her mother's voice interrupted her.

"Samantha!" Pamela cried out, "Samantha! Don't you try to hide from me, girl! Ms. Star told me you went this way!"

"Oh, dear me," Ida sighed, "It's not true after all."

"What are you babbling about, you silly old fool?"

"You're standing on hallowed ground, so the story about witches not being able to do the same isn't true after all."

"I can't wait until you join these wretched people buried here, you walking bag of bones."

"Mother! Pamela!"

"Dammit," Sam sighed, looking sadly at her husband's grave, "They found me. I have to go."

She stood up, but not before kissing the tombstone. Again, the imagined picture of her husband entered Sam's mind as he kissed her good-bye.

"Until we meet again, Dan," she sighed.

"Samantha!"

"Dammit!" Ida shouted, now sounding furious, "And now I have to learn that the cross thing doesn't work either!"

"Mother, please."

"Do crosses not work with vampires either, or is it just you, Pamela dear?"

"Burn in Hell, you wrinkled toad."

"Mother! Pamela!"


	4. Chapter 4

**RazedragonOAO: Alright. I will. Don't feel too bad for him, though. Vlad's one of the good guys in this story. **

**CSIalchemist: Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyy yyybe. **

**Fun Fact: Exam on Bio, Calculus, and Spanish. All on Monday. Joy. **

**More Fun Fact: **_**Feline Planet **_**for adoption. **

"Oh!" Ms. Star squealed upon seeing the bride, "You look so lovely, Ms. Manson! Or, should I say, Princess Samantha!"

Sam glared at the blonde twit before glaring back at her hideous dress. Once again, her mother had managed to find another way to humiliate her daughter. The long-sleeved dress was ivory-colored and that was the only good thing Sam had to say about it. The bodice of the gown was completely covered in golden-brown beads. There were so many in fact, not a single millimeter of cloth was able to peek out. The skirt was nothing but a frilly mess of golden bows from the waist to the floor. Whatever frills weren't on the skirt seemed to have been bunched up on the ends of the sleeves where Sam's itchy hands poked out. A wreath of cypresses crowned her head as a long laced veil trailed past her shoulders and down her back.

"Star!" a voice commanded, "Star! Where on Earth have you gone to?"

Before Star could answer, Queen Penelope turned around the corner in search of her servant. Sam had to confess, the red dress she was wearing was quite beautiful. The golden belt tied around the waist made it even more so when paired with the golden royal crown.

"Oh, Samantha!" the queen smiled as pleasantly as she could, "Oh, you look lovely darling."

"Thank you, your Highness," she mumbled.

"And you as well, your Majesty!" the faithful servant replied.

"Yes, I know. Thank you." Queen Penelope nodded in agreement, "Anyways, Star, one of the tables is short a marigold. I need you to run out to the florist to buy one."

"One?" Sam questioned while Ms. Star ran off, "You only need one?"

"Yes, darling. You see, each table has exactly thirteen marigolds on it. Well, we ran out on the last one. Stupid florist. I'll have to deal with him later."

"But, it's just one flower. Who cares if one stupid flower is missing?"

"But, my dear, then that last table won't match! And then nothing would be coordinate at all! And everything just needs to be perfect! After all, you only get married once! Now, I must be off, my dear. I need to make sure that the cooks are preparing precisely thirty-seven peas per guest. Don't wander off for too long, Samantha!"

Sam stared in confusion as the queen wandered off to the kitchen.

"Thirty-seven peas?" she repeated before shaking her head, "Ugh. This marriage thing is going to be much worse than I thought."

She stared angrily down the hall before glancing at her bouquet. Something was missing. Sam counted the flowers, but saw that they were all there. Without thinking, she reached into her hair and pulled out the morning glory. She smiled at it and placed it into her bouquet.

"There. Better," she sighed, "I'm not even married to that buffoon yet, and already I can't wait for you and me to reunite permanently."

She stared at her bouquet some more before growing restless.

"Who says I have to stay here and wait for unhappiness to find me? Let's see if I can find a way out."

Sam cautiously looked around before reassuring herself that no one could see her. She dodged down the red-carpeted hall and started looking for the staircase. It didn't take her long to find one, but she became puzzled over which one to take.

"Who has two staircases in the same place that both go downstairs, only when faces left while the other faces right? Oh, what does it matter? So long as they both lead me downstairs, I should be fine."

She took the one on the left and started looking for a way out. For fifteen minutes, Sam turned this way and that, went in that direction before going to this direction, and ran down that hallway before running through this hallway.

"Now, where am I?" she asked, irritably as she stepped into yet another hallway.

Sam walked quickly down the passage, not really paying attention to the numerous paintings on the wall. It wasn't until she passed a familiar name did she stop and take a look.

"His Royal Majesty," she read the tiny golden plague, "Prince Daniel James Fenton of Casper."

She looked up and gasped at the prince's portrait. The man in the picture was frowning, as if something very distressing was troubling him. But that's not what made Sam gasp. What had surprised her was that the prince's painting looked strikingly similar to the man that she had imagined she married last night.

"You are the same man," she said, softly.

Indeed he was. His height, broadness, dark hair, and blue eyes were exactly the same from the night before. Even his waistcoat and trousers were the same exact color.

"So," she reached up to stroke the painting, "You are my husband."

Sam tenderly ran her fingers down the portrait. She looked into the prince's eyes and frowned slightly. What could be troubling him so?

"Something wrong, dearie?"

Sam let out an exclamation as she whipped her head around.

"Oh," she gasped, letting her arm drop, "Grandma. No. Nothing's wrong."

"Trying to escape this unholy mess, I see?" the elderly woman wheeled herself to her granddaughter's side, "Good for you. I only wish your father had done the same. Handsome young man, isn't he?"

"I suppose Father was handsome when he was young."

"Not your father, Sam. I mean the man you're admiring so much."

She nodded towards the painting. Sam turned back towards it and instantly her cheeks flushed.

"Oh, yes. He is handsome. Very handsome, I must say," There was nothing but silence for a minute or two before she spoke again, "Grandma, I saw his grave last night at the cemetery."

"Oh, yes," Ida sighed, "Poor dearie. He was much too young."

"You knew him?"

"Everybody knew him. Not personally, of course. I meant everybody knew him because he was our prince. Poor man died when you were only four."

"What happened?"

Ida sighed before answering her granddaughter.

"You see, Sam, his parents, King Vladimir and Queen Madeline, were very fine people. Well-loved and well respected by all. Sadly, the queen died after giving birth to their last child, a princess, when Prince Daniel was only twelve. Several years passed before King Vladimir married again. He had no children by his second wife, but he adopted her son as his own. The second wife was none other than our very own Queen Penelope and the king's stepson was your betrothed Prince Dashiel."

"You're kidding," Sam gasped.

"No, I'm not, my dear. Not in the least. Now, everything was all fine and dandy for the first year or two until one night everyone in the palace got violently ill after eating supper. Everybody recovered except the king. Despite the doctor's efforts, King Vladimir passed away later that night. The entire kingdom was in a state of shock. After she had recovered, Queen Penelope immediately blamed the cook for the king's death and had her executed."

"Oh, my god," Sam whispered, placing a hand over her mouth.

"Well, hang onto your corset, Sam. It gets worse. Everything was back to normal for the next several months, though there were some tales about tension between the prince and his stepmother. Seems like he didn't like how she was ruling the kingdom and was trying to pressure her to retire so that he might step in as king. There were also stories about the princess being bullied by her stepbrother, and that was another reason Prince Daniel was trying to reclaim the crown. Then one morning, he didn't come down to breakfast. Queen Penelope sent a servant girl up there to figure out what was going on. When the poor creature came back down, she was completely in hysterics. Nobody could understand a word she was saying what with her shouting and sobbing. Two more servants were sent upstairs before one of them called for a doctor, not that it would help. The prince was already dead and had been for some time."

"How?"

"The poor man had been attacked cruelly in the middle of the night. He was covered in blood that had long since dried. The doctor thought that his attacker tried to kill him in his sleep, but the prince woke up and tried to fight back. Not that it did much, I'm afraid."

"Who attacked him?"

"A butler stepped forward and accused one of the knights. The knight denied it of course, but Queen Penelope had him executed. But, the troubling thing of the matter is that the knight had been a vehement supporter of the queen and Her Royal Highness claims that the murder was committed to end the tension between her and her stepson, the knight denied killing the prince at all. And, quite frankly, Sam, I'm inclined to agree with him."

"Why do you say that?"

"He was such a great supporter of the queen, that if he had done such a crime, he would have stepped forward himself to proudly admit it. Instead, he denied it all the way to the end. Something just isn't right about this."

"What did the princess think?"

"That's another funny thing, my dear. She disappeared on the same night her brother was found dead. Vanished into thin air, it seems. Not a single person ever found her or any sign of her fate for the past twenty years."

Sam stared back at the painting. Nothing more was said between her and her grandmother. They both just looked sadly at the prince with heavy hearts. It was Sam's mother that broke the stillness.

"Samantha! Samantha! Where are you?"

"Quick, Sam," Ida whispered, "You sneak out of here a I'll try to see if fire can kill it!"

"I wish fire could kill you, wrinkly hag," Pamela hissed as she grabbed Sam's wrist, "Now, come along! It's about to start! We can't have a wedding without a bride, now can we?"

Reluctantly, Sam allowed herself to be dragged down to the direction of the courtyard as her mother continued chatting away.

"Now, remember, Samantha. Don't go down the aisle yet until. Wait for the sign from Ms. Star."

"What sign?" Ida asked, sarcastically, "Abandon all hope ye who enter here?"

"Shut up, you sack of prunes! Here we are. Now remember, Samantha, don't do anything to screw up this marriage. It isn't horrible. Why, just look at your father and me!"

"Run!" Ida shouted back as she wheeled herself around to find her son, "Run like hell and never look back!"

"The next celebration we'll be having is your funeral, you miserable louse!"

As soon as Pamela started chasing after her mother-in-law, the organ started playing. Ms. Star spotted Sam and pushed her behind the bridesmaids.

"Now, I know how distracted you can be, Ms. Manson, so I'll tell you when to walk."

Sam growled, but Ms. Star didn't appear to hear. She was too focused on making sure the bridesmaids and groomsmen walked down the aisle properly. When it came to be Sam's turn, Ms. Star whistled and waved her over.

"You're on, your future-Highness," she giggled.

As she entered the archway, everyone stood up from their seat. Sam could feel the blood rush to her cheeks as she slowly followed the rose petals on the ground. She glanced at the petals and then at her bouquet. The morning glory was the first flower she laid her eyes on. The sight of it gave Sam a sort of hope and calmness.

"Everything will be alright," she whispered to herself, "I won't live forever. It's just until death do us part. Then you and I will be together at last."

She stood next to her fiancée. Sam glanced over at Prince Dash, but he didn't return the favor. He stared straight ahead and looked rather annoyed at having to be here. A quick glance over at the priest suggested that Father Bertrand didn't want to be there either. Sam stared back down at the morning glory and decided to just wait until her name was called.

It worked quite well, actually. Every now and then, Sam glanced up to be sure her attention wasn't needed, but otherwise the priest paid no attention to her whatsoever.

"If anyone knows why these two should not wed," Father Bertrand said in monotone while sharply looking at the couple in front of him, "Other than the bride and the groom, please speak now-"

"Mother! Put your hand down!"

"Can you go through one day without ruining everything, you disgusting old flea!"

"Perhaps," Father Bertrand glared at the old woman in the wheelchair, "I should be a bit more specific. If anyone can come up with a good reason besides 'I hate him' and 'she's an annoying brat,' THEN you may speak now. Otherwise, shut up."

At that instant, all of the candles went out. Whispers and inquiries arose from the audience as they frantically searched for the cause of the darkness.

"What in God's name-?" the priest grumbled.

Suddenly, a loud bang and a fierce gust of wind entered the room. Screams, shouts, and orders were heard as papers, hats, and flowers flew all around the room. Prince Dash wrapped his dark blue cape around him tightly as Sam tried to stop her veil from flying around her face

"Don't there just stand there, idiots!" Queen Penelope shouted to her servants as she tried to keep the crown on her head, "Shut the doors! Shut the doors!"

"What the hell is going on here?" the prince demanded as the priest attempted to relight the candles, "Never mind the stupid candles! Just marry us and be done with it!"

"You can't marry her," a deep voice said, softly.

"Oi!" both the prince and Sam spun around to search for the owner of the voice, "And who the bloody hell are you!"

A pair of blood red eyes glared at the prince as a white flame swirled around the air. As it swirled, it would reveal a body part where one would expectantly see it. This body turned out to belong to a man who was very tall and muscular, wearing a tattered black-and-white waistcoat with black trousers and white boots. A bluish-green face with a white goatee, pointed teeth, and pointed ears was soon revealed. A white ponytail rested behind his back. At last, the white fire stopped swirling and settled on top of the creature's head.

When he had finally appeared in full, he answered the angry man.

"I'm her husband."

Everybody but the man himself gasped, everybody, except Sam, that is. Instead, she stared wide eyed at him with her mouth agape. Prince Dash looked from Sam to the apparition in front of him, and then back again.

"You-" he stuttered, "You are not!"

"Don't believe me?" the man arched an eyebrow, "Check Sam's bouquet. It has a morning glory in it. The same one I gave her last night from my grave."

"Fine, then. I will," immediately, Prince Dash snatched the bouquet from the bride before turning to his mother, "Uh. What's a morning glory?"

"Oh, you idiot," she growled as she stomped up the aisle, "Give me that!"

The queen looked furiously at the assortment of flowers. Then her look of irritation grew into one of shock.

"I-" she stammered, before recovering herself, "That doesn't prove anything, monster! Be gone! I am queen of this kingdom and I order you to be gone!"

"Not without my wife, 'your Majesty,'" he snarled, his voice dripped in sarcasm as he said the last two words, "If that isn't enough to satisfy you, then what about this?"

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a golden trinket. All this time, Sam had been silent out of shock and disbelief, but when she recognized the familiar raven shape and the purple gem, she couldn't resist anymore.

"My brooch!" she gasped, "But I gave that to Dan!"

"You did what, Samantha!" her mother cried out in alarm, but it was the man that answered.

"You heard her," a green aura surrounded him as he levitated from the ground and flew behind Sam, "You all witnessed what she said. Sam gave her brooch to me, Prince Daniel. Or as my family like to call me, Dan."

Everybody widened their eyes in shock, but none were as wide as the ones belonging to the queen and Prince Dashiel.

"Come along, my dear," Prince Dan said, lifting Sam up and carrying her bridal style, "I'm taking you home with me."

At that, the queen immediately regained her senses and pointed towards them.

"STOP HIM!" she commanded, "HE'S KIDNAPPING MY SON'S BRIDE! STOP HIM!"

Guards from every corner in the room immediately leapt up to action, but in vain. By the time they reached him, Prince Dan had allowed his flaming hair to wrap around himself and Sam. The last guard threw a spear into the growing flame, but they had already disappeared. Not even a spark of hair remained. All stared at where they had previously been unsure of what to do or even how to react. Finally, Ida broke the silence.

"Oh, wonderful, Pamela. You're so horrid that even Hell itself won't take you back."

"You're going to be the next denizen of Hell if you don't watch it, you leathery goblin!"

"Mother! Pamela!"


	5. Chapter 5

**RazedragonOAO: Thank you. I will. **

**ChopSuzi: You won't have to wait for long.**

**CSIalchemist: I've always loved the bad guys. Well, except Dash, that is. **

**Fun Fact: Three exams in one day is extremely exhausting. Especially when your brain is completely filled with random stupid shit that has nothing to do with the exam (I wonder what potato chip pancakes taste like. Maybe it tastes like granola waffles! Stop! Exam! Focus on mitosis! Wasn't there an episode on this on **_**Ozzy and Drix**_**? Yeah! There was! It wasn't my favorite, but the ending was cute. Why's the Mole so damn crazy? No! Shut up! Mitosis! I wonder if Thrax goes through mitosis, too. What would his clone be like? Probably just as evil if not more. Oh, fuck the exam. I'm screwed anyways.). **

**More Fun Fact: **_**Feline Planet **_**is up for adoption**

Sam shifted her body slightly as she started to wake up. Her eyes were still closed and she intended to keep them that way.

"I'm not getting up," she whispered to herself, pressing her head down harder on the pillow "I am not getting up and nobody's going to make me. Not Mother, not the prince, and definitely not Her Royal Highness. I'm just going to stay in bed and I am never going marry Prince Dash. I am staying right here and I am going to go back and enjoy my wonderful dream. I am going to go back to dreaming about my real husband whisking me away from this stupid God forsaken marriage."

Sam kept her eyes shut tight and went back to her dreaming. She went back to the church where her mother forced her to walk down the aisle. She went back to the droning priest, the irritated fiancée, and her flower, her only comfort during this mess. The priest is asking for objections now. Wait, why are her parents arguing with her grandmother again? Oh, never mind that now. The priest is clarifying the question.

Now, the room is black and the doors have been forced open. The wind creates chaos, but Prince Dash insists on continuing the wedding.

"You can't marry her."

A spark of flame swirls round and there he is. Sam's husband. Sam's true husband. The brooch proves it! Sure, his hair and skin looks a bit different, but that didn't matter. He's here! Dan's here! He's going to whisk Sam away from this horrid affair!

Dan picks her up in his arms and she holds tightly onto his neck. He feels cold to the touch, but it doesn't matter much to Sam. He's taking her away! The white flame embraces the both of them. First, there's nothing but white, but soon it all fades to black. A green aura surrounds the bits of black and Dan flies towards it. Blurs of purple and green mix with the dark atmosphere as Dan continues flying towards their destination.

"And then I wake up," Sam sighed, rolling onto her back, "Too bad. It was the best dream I had."

"Oh?" a female voice asked, "What was the dream about, dearie?"

Immediately, Sam's eyes shot wide open and she sat upright in bed. A bulky, green-skinned, middle-aged woman was levitating at the foot of Sam's bed. Her red eyes seemed rather bright and pleasant to Sam, and this lady did seem sweet. The clothes she was wearing suggested that perhaps this was a servant.

Indeed, the woman had been dusting the night-table with the feather duster, but when she heard the castle's newest member speak of a magnificent dream, she stopped and asked. It was really more out of curiosity of this newcomer than of the dream. The girl seemed a bit startled, but then again, she probably wasn't expecting anybody but herself to be her. The Prince Daniel was right. His new bride was a pretty girl, Rather a bit on the scrawny side, though. She could use more meat.

"Um," Sam finally responded, "Who- who are you?"

"Oh, dear me," the woman chuckled, "Where are my manners? You can just call me the Lunch Lady, Your Highness, that's what everyone calls me!"

"Your Highness?" Sam asked, confused before she looked down on the sheets, "This isn't my bed."

And indeed, it wasn't. Sam's white canopy bed with the pink sheets that her mother had forced her to use was nowhere to be seen. Instead, she was lying on a black, four poster bed with a wired headboard and footboard. The horrendous sheets had been replaced with a dark, red wine colored sheets and bedspread.

Sam looked around the room and discovered that she was not even in her own room. The white, wooden walls were now charcoal grey. Her usual pink carpet had been replaced with an obsidian floor with a matching fireplace in the right wall. Her usual white writing desk and dresser were gone, but in their places were a black writing desk and nightstand. There was no dresser, but a quick turn of her head helped Sam see an opened wooden door. From the crack, she could see various articles of clothing all lined up on the hanging rack.

"Where am I?" she whispered, forgetting the Lunch Lady was still there.

"Why, you're at home, Your Majesty," was the cheerful reply, "But then again, I suppose it's understandable that you're still a bit confused. After all, you just got here last night. And even then, the Prince said you fainted only a couple seconds after coming into the Ghost Zone."

"The ghost what?" Sam turned her attention back to the woman.

"The Ghost Zone, Your Highness. It's where all the ghosts come to live after their mortal lives have ended."

"Mortal lives ended? Oh my God. I was so terrified of marrying Prince Dashiel that I actually died out of sheer fright!"

"Oh, no, no, no, Your Highness!" the Lunch Lady was quick to correct herself, "What I meant was we came here to live after our mortal lives ended, but you're still alive! His Highness, Prince Daniel took you here after that awful mortal prince attempted to marry you. I always thought he was a brat when I was alive."

Sam looked puzzled as the Lunch Lady looked cross at the memory of her life.

"I'm so sorry?" Sam said, not really sure what else she could say.

"Oh, don't be. Thankfully, I only had to deal with him for a year or so before the queen got it in her head that I poisoned everybody! But, never you mind that. Why don't you go downstairs, Your Highness? My daughter should have finished making breakfast by now. I'm sure you're starving!"

Curious about the rest of the place, Sam got out of bed and walked into her closet for a quick change. Several minutes later, she came out in a floor length, violet dress and black boots before slowly opening her bedroom door.

The hallway was made of stone and obsidian, just like Sam's room, only it more brightly lit with torches and candles. She walked down the passageway, marveling at the assortment of paintings and tapestries lining the walls.

"And you make sure he knows that this comes directly from me," Sam heard a man's voice sternly command, "I've had it up to here with this silly nonsense! It's one thing to be obsessed with boxes. It's an entirely different thing when said obsession practically invades every bathroom we have! I can't even wash my face without having to move five or six boxes out of the sink!"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Sam quickly turned around as she heard footsteps approaching. She didn't want anybody to know she had overheard anything. However, the servant the man had been addressing had quickly flew past her without even glancing in her direction. She stared at the green ghost as she slowly realized the servant was in fact a vulture whose wings looked to be made of fire. After she was done staring, cautiously, she peeked down the hall where she had eavesdropped to see if the coast was clear. Unfortunately, she was spotted.

"Well," the first man said upon seeing her, "If it isn't my daughter-in-law. Come here, child and let me take a good look at you."

Slowly, she came out of her hiding place and walked towards him while staring in wonder. He was a tall man with a black goatee and a black, bizarre devil-shaped hair style. His skin was blue with a bit of a greenish tint to it and his eyes were red, but lacked pupils. He wore a white shirt with black trousers and black boots, but his cape was rather colorful. It was a green cloth with a golden trim and golden clasp. A golden crown with emerald jewels fit rather snugly round his head. Sam thought that she recognized the man from somewhere, but couldn't recall where.

"Hmm," he remarked, raising both his eyebrows, "I must say, Dan was right about you being a pretty one, especially your eyes. They remind me of Maddie's. Or at least, of Maddie's before we died, but never mind that."

"Um, thank you," Sam made a slight curtsey, "Your Majesty."

"Oh, Saman- Oh, wait, Dan told me you didn't like that. Sorry, Sam. Anyways, Sam. We're family now. You call me Vlad."

"Vlad?" she blinked, suddenly remembering the portrait right next to Dan's, "As in, King Vladimir Masters?"

"Vlad for short."

"Begging your pardon, Your Highness," the servant came back and perched onto the deceased king, "But I seem to be having some problems delivering your message."

"What problems?" Vlad demanded, looking irritated at the bird, "It's a simple message. Surely you can remember the gist of it."

"I may be over two-thousand years old, Your Highness, but my memory's still in working order. However, my strength isn't, or else I'd be helping the Box Ghost from the bottom of whatever cardboard avalanche he managed to get himself into in the bathtub."

"Again?" the king groaned before waving at his shoulder, "Off with you. I'll deal with him myself. If you'll excuse me, Sam."

He sighed in irritation as he stomped down the hallway with the vulture following him. Sam looked back at them for a couple of seconds before going towards the marble staircase. When she was downstairs, Sam continued admiring the assortment of decorations upon the walls and lining the hallway floors. She was so focused on an artist's interpretation of the outer ring of the seventh circle of Hell that she jumped when she heard two voices from the room next door.

"I did it, Your Majesty!" a young girl sounded excited, "I made breakfast without burning anything this time. Well, except the bacon, but I only burnt it a little bit!"

"Oh, don't you worry about that," a motherly voice reassured, "Vlad rather likes his bacon extra crispy."

Suddenly, the two golden doors opened and a little girl with her black hair in pigtails burst out. She stared at Sam with her red eyes in amazement before heading back into the dining room.

"She's still alive! She's still alive!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, "Your Majesty! The new princess is still alive!"

"I know that, dear," the older woman replied, "Dan told us, remember?"

A blue-skinned woman appeared at the door as the child joined her. After seeing the previous residents of the castle, Sam no longer questioned the woman's red eyes or her purple hair. But what did seem odd were her four arms. The woman's floor-length golden dress prevented Sam from seeing her legs, but she wondered if there were truly two. The woman wore a golden tiara encrusted with blue topaz stones.

Perhaps this was the missing princess? But, wasn't she around twelve when she disappeared? This woman was obviously older than twelve. Perhaps she was the former queen.

"Sam, I presume?" the woman asked with a smile, "Call me Maddie. I'm not sure if you've met the Boxed Lunch?"

She pointed towards the child. Sam did a curtsey for the girl, but all she received in return was a stare.

"I don't know where Dan is," Maddie continued, "But do come have some breakfast. I'm sure you haven't eaten anything since yesterday."

This caused the child to finally speak, "I didn't burn anything! Only the bacon! But only a little bit!"

"It's alright," Sam smiled, "I don't really like bacon anyways."

"You know," the queen joined Sam at the breakfast table while the Boxed Lunch sat with them, "Your arrival yesterday was truly a surprise."

"It was?" Sam asked as she paused spreading jelly on her toast, "Is it alright that I'm here?"

"Oh, it's perfectly alright. Vlad's been talking to Dan about how he ought to find a girl someday. But, two days ago when Dan told us he had finally married, we thought he was joking. He's found interest in only very few girls, but they didn't really have that much in common with him. Then he says out of the blue that he's gone and married a woman he had just met. Well, Vlad and I laughed at him. I think we hurt his pride a little bit, I do need to apologize for that. But then, yesterday he shows up with you in his arms. Claims he had to come get you after his step-brother tried to marry you."

"So, it wasn't a dream?" Sam asked, the question was really for herself, not the queen. But still, she wanted proof that it was true, "I have to see him! I have to see Dan!"

"I'm afraid I don't know where he is. Perhaps-"

The vulture servant had taken this time to perch upon the queen's shoulder.

"Begging your pardon, Your Highness," he started, "But the king has asked me to warn you not to use the third floor bathroom in the left passage. The Box Ghost has gone and somehow managed to cram seven or eight boxes down the, please excuse my language, the toilet."

The Boxed Lunch giggled at the servant, "Ha! You said toilet!"

"Yes, I did," he rolled his eyes, "Anyways, don't use it. I'm a bird for Christ's sakes and even I won't use it!"

"Again?" the queen sighed, "Please excuse me, Sam. I need to make sure my jewelry box isn't one of those boxes he's stuffed down."

The servant went from the Maddie's shoulder to her chair as she stood up and stomped out of the kitchen.

"I think I know where the prince is," the Boxed Lunch piped up after Maddie had left.

"Good for you," the servant growled in irritation.

"Where?" Sam asked, ignoring him, "I need to see him as soon as possible. Where is he?"

"He's probably around the palace grounds practicing his archery."

"Oh," the bird said, looking towards them, "Is that why I kept hearing my brother do all that squawking this morning?"

"He's practicing on the servants? That's not very nice."

"Oh, don't listen to him," the Boxed Lunch stuck her tongue out at the servant, "He's aiming at targets, not servants. His brother was throwing a hissy fit because Prince Daniel's friend threatened to wrangle his neck."

"Well, that's not very nice, either."

"Have you met my brother?" the vulture rolled his eyes once more, "Besides, even if Skulker does wrangle my brother's neck, what's he going to do? Die again? We're already dead. We're not going to get any deader than this, you know."

"I'll go look around the yard then, thanks," Sam ignored him as she finished the last of her toast.

As she walked off, she could hear her two previous companions arguing.

"How come you're feeling all crabby all the time?"

"Kid, I'm two thousand years old. I'm lucky I can feel anything at all. Besides, somebody keeps throwing stones at my nest at night!"

"They're not stones! They're not even pebbles!"

"Wait! It was you? I thought it was that the Box Ghost trying to see if he could throw his boxes up there you little brat!"

"Oops."


	6. Chapter 6

**ChopSuzi: You're just going to have to wait to find out. **

**CSIalchemist: I don't plan on stopping anytime soon. And yes, Maddie is Pandora.**

**Fun Fact: I'm home for Thanksgiving break and I finally get to see the adorable new puppies! They're so tiny and cute! **

The Prince Dashiel took a huge gulp from his wine goblet before setting it back onto the dining hall table.

"Well," he sighed, "At least I don't have to marry her anymore."

"Yes, you are," Queen Penelope paced irritably back and forth, "We'll find Samantha and when we do, you two will wed each other."

"You really think the guards will find her, Your Highness?" Pamela sat in one of the golden chairs, but touched nothing on her plate, "They'll find Samantha?"

"There is no doubt in my mind" the queen gave her smile before returning to her pacing.

"I just can't believe it, is all," Pamela continued, "Not just Samantha's awful kidnapping, but the way she said she had given her brooch to somebody named Dan. Who is this Dan and why did my daughter give her brooch to him?"

"Because," Ida replied after she had swallowed a bit of some potatoes, "She figured that if she were to be forced to be married to a demon, she might as well as marry an actual one."

"Shut up, you annoying little flea!"

"Mother! Pamela!"

"Look," Dash gulped his wine down again, "If she wants to marry this Dan guy, then let her. That way, I don't have to marry her."

"You two will be married and that is that!" the queen shouted, "You two will be married whether you like it or not until God Himself comes down from the Heavens to tell me otherwise!"

"What?" Ida asked, now moving on to the chicken, "The ghost of your stepson coming to take Sam wasn't a big enough clue for you?"

"You're going to be a ghost very soon if you don't keep your mouth shut, you old worm!"

"Mother! Pamela!"

"That thing was not-" Queen Penelope started, but a guard had come into the room and distracted her, "Well?"

"Terribly sorry, Your Majesty, but we've found no trace of Ms. Manson or her kidnapper."

"Well, then you're not looking hard enough, now are you? Keep looking!"

"Yes, Your Highness."

"And as for you, Ida Manson," the queen turned back to glare at her as the knight quickly took his leave, "That thing was not my stepson! My stepson is dead!"

"And so was the poor dear you just called a 'thing,'" Ida pointed out, "Whoever he is, he's definitely not human. Surely, even your son can see that."

"See what?" the prince stared at the old lady as he heard his name being called.

But nobody answered him. The queen continued glaring at old woman. As much as she hated to admit this, the old hag had a point. There wasn't a single human that the queen had known to have such oddly colored skin or hair made of fire.

"Well, then, Ida Manson," Queen Penelope continued, "Since you seem to be such an expert in this subject, perhaps you could enlighten us with what we ought to do next to get Samantha back."

"Do we even know that Sam wants to be back?" Ida answered, "Wherever she is, I'm certain she's having a much more delightful time with Prince Daniel as her husband than Prince Dashiel-dim-as-a-doorknob-almost-husband."

"That thing is not Daniel!" the queen insisted.

"Just tell us how to get Samantha back, you wrinkly old bat!"

"Mother! Pamela!"

"Well, what are you asking me for?" now Ida was getting irritated, "Do I look like an expert on the dead?"

"I suppose not," Pamela sniffed, "But I figured you could at least give us some tips seeing as you're almost dead, you sack of raisins!"

"Mother! Pamela!"

"You want a tip? How's this then. Go back down to Hell with Satan instead of two-timing him with my son!"

"Mother!"

"I'm sure you'll keep him company for me when you go down there after I strangle you, you blasted witch!"

"Pamela!"

Soon, the dining hall was filled with chaos. Ida quickly spun the wheels on her chair round and round, laughing at Pamela's attempts to catch up with her. Meanwhile, Jeremy had deserted his supper to break up the latest fight between his mother and his wife, pleading with them all the way to stop this nonsense.

Prince Dashiel seemed incredibly amused by the show, but Queen Penelope paid no attention. They had to get Samantha back somehow whether the girl liked it or not. And really, how can she not like it? Being stuck with a demon for a husband cannot possibly be any better than being stuck with Dash. Not that the queen was really concerned about Samantha's happiness. It was her inheritance that attracted the queen's interest.

Once Dash and Samantha were married and Samantha inherited all those beautiful mines, not only would this kingdom be the wealthiest, but also the most powerful. Queen Penelope wanted power over the gold so much, she could practically taste it. Really, she was only doing this for her son, and how does the little brat repay her? Whining about marrying that stupid Samantha while completely ignoring the fact that Samantha was the key to his wealth and power once he takes over the crown.

And then that stupid creature who has the gall to claim to be the queen's stepson comes and ruins everything. If that thing really was the ghost of her stepchild, well, Queen Penelope supposed he was doing what he does best. Ruining everything. Well, he was not going to ruin her son's marriage. The queen had worked far too hard for far too long to get where she was today and no ghostly abominations of her horrid stepchildren were going to stand in her way.

"Star!" she shouted sharply.

Immediately, the blonde girl raced into the dining hall, taking care not to be in the way of the Manson family's feud.

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"I don't suppose Father Bertrand is still around?"

"I'll fetch him for you, Your Majesty!"

"Good. As for the rest of you!" immediately, everybody stopped fighting at the higher pitch of Her Majesty's voice, "I believe I have found a way to bring Samantha back, safe and sound, in my son's arms."

"But I don't want her in my arms," the prince complained, "Or any other body part for that matter."

"Oh!" Pamela sighed as she sat into the nearest chair, "That truly is good news, Your Highness! Now I can sleep in peace knowing the wedding will go as planned."

"Yes," Ida rolled her eyes, "Because a missing wedding is so much more tragic than a missing daughter."

"You'll be the next person to wind up missing, you old mole!"

"Mother! Pamela!"

"You called, Your Highness?" the short priest poked his head inside before the rest of his body followed.

"Yes, Father Bertrand," Queen Penelope confirmed, "I need you to perform an exorcism."

"An exorcism, Your Majesty?" Father Bertrand blinked, rather confused at the request.

"Yes," Ida pointed over to Pamela, "We think a demon inhabited my poor daughter-in-law since her birth."

"Oh, just die already, you infectious dog!"

"Mother! Pamela!"

"We need an exorcism," the queen interrupted, "To bring Samantha back from the demon that kidnapped her."

"Well," the priest stammered, "Begging your pardon, Your Majesty, but unless the demon's hiding Ms. Manson here in this palace, which I highly doubt, then there's really nothing I can do. Besides, I've never done an exorcism before."

"Well, then," she placed her hands on her hips and looked rather crossly at him, "Now what do we do?"

"Well," he rubbed his chin as he thought, "I have been hearing tales of a man a couple towns from here that goes by the name of Jack Fenton."

"What about him?"

"Mind you, these are only tales. I've never seen the man myself, but from what I've heard this Fenton fellow is a piece of work, he is. He has an unnatural, high interest in the supernatural and has turned his home into some sort of laboratory to conduct rather bizarre experiments on the subject."

"You think he may be of help to us?"

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try. He lives at a place called Amity. I'm told that he's a bit of an idiot over at his village, but his two daughters are rather bright enough to fix whatever tomfoolery he's accidently conducted."

"Well," the queen sighed, folding her arms, "I don't suppose we really have much of a choice, do we? Thank you, Father Bertrand. You've been incredibly helpful. Would you mind going down to the stables and tell the stable boy to get a carriage ready for us?"

"What?" Prince Dashiel demanded as the priest bowed and left the room, "You're not actually considering this, are you Mother?"

"If we want Samantha back, then we have no choice but to consider it."

"But I don't want her back! And besides, you can't honestly believe in this silly ghost or demon rubbish, can you?"

"Well, then," the queen sneered, "You try and tell me what that thing was that took your bride!"

To this, the only answer he had to offer was a blush, but the prince was not about to back down.

"But you heard what Father Bertrand said! The man's a village idiot! You're going to leave Samantha into the hands of an idiot?"

"Oh, don't worry about that, Your Highness," Ida remarked, "After having been engaged to you, I'm sure she won't really notice much of a difference."

"Why don't you crawl into a hole and die in misery, you disgusting virus!"

"Mother! Pamela!"


	7. Chapter 7

**RazedragonOAO: Thank you. I think.**

**ChopSuzi: Just thinking about the following hilarity that will ensue is just as fun as writing it!**

**CSIalchemist: Wonder no more!**

**Fun Fact: I'm stuffed.**

The ghost vulture servants were surprising enough, but it seemed that several other creatures served in the castle. Every door or passageway that she passed was guarded by two grim, green skeletons, each bearing a sword and a shield. Several steps later and Sam caught sight of a short, pudgy blue-skinned man flying rapidly down the hall with several cardboard boxes following closely behind. Also flying behind him was the wet and beyond irritated king wrapped in nothing but a towel.

"Confound it, Box Ghost!" he shouted, "How many times have I repeatedly told you to keep your silly obsession outside of the bathroom! Especially when I'm in the middle of bathing! You just wait until I get my hands on you!"

"I am the Box Ghost!" shouted the first ghost, "Beware of my soggy cardboard and square containers!"

"You're the one who ought to 'beware!' Specifically, my wrath, you blithering, idiotic, piece of fudge!"

Sam thought this would be an excellent time to turn around and search for her husband in the opposite direction. She passed several more skeleton guards before a huge, red beast came into view. She stopped and stared at it while it snarled menacingly at her. The creature's four hands formed into fists as its gorilla-like face eyed her suspiciously with its beady, red eyes. Still snarling, it drew its lips back, revealing two giant fangs accompanied by other sharp teeth.

"Down!" a skeleton turned its skull towards it and pointed a scolding, bony finger, "Down, Behemoth!"

The creature let out a reluctant growl as it backed away.

"Umm," Sam turned to the guard, "Thank you."

But the skeleton remained silent. She turned her head back and slowly tip-toed past the monster. It made no move to attack, but it still watched her closely, growling the entire time. Finally, Sam passed it and ran down the hall until she could see it no more.

Several more minutes passed until she finally found the main doors. They were incredibly large and made of nothing but wood. Their iron knockers were much too high for Sam to reach, but she had no trouble letting herself out. As she approached the doors pondering as to how she could reach them, the doors instantly opened themselves allowing her to pass through. She stepped outside and stopped for a minute to stare in awe at the sky.

Instead of the usual blue with white fluffy clouds, there was black with swirls and whorls of green to serve as clouds. Amongst the sky were levitating masses which Sam took to be land. Most had towers and buildings upon them, such as the land back where she was from. But some were bare and only had purplish soil. Sam looked down and saw that while the ground was not purple, it wasn't green either, at least, not the shade of green she was used to associate with grass. The color of the grass beneath her feet was an almost glowing, neon green and the flowers that grew upon it were either the same color or were a dark purplish shade.

"Now, now, my children," a voice hissed, "No need to fight. There's enough for everybody."

Sam looked up from her feet and gasped at the sight in front of her. A green ghost that seemed to be made entirely of vines and other plant-like material was stroking several large, purple flower bulbs with teeth while holding a sack of what appeared to be fertilizer. His beaky mouth smiled and the thorns on top of his head seemed to grow larger with delight as the flower bulbs whimpered and begged over the sack.

Sam finally overcome her shock and thought that this might be the gardener. She was about to ask him for the whereabouts of Dan when an argument interrupted.

"Damned bird!" a voice shouted from the distance, "You mess me up one more time and I swear, this next arrow will be aimed at your head!"

"Ooh!" another voice shouted back, sarcastically, "I'm so scared, I'm shaking my feathers! I'd be even more scared if you knew how to even aim let alone shoot!"

"Why you little-!"

A THWACK was soon heard and so was a laugh.

"HA!" the bird shouted while somebody was laughing incredibly hard in the background, "Missed!"

"That-that" the other voice stuttered, sounding very frustrated, "That was only a practice shot! This time I'll get you!"

"I hope so," the laughing stopped, but Sam could still hear the mirth in the man's familiar voice, "Or else Undergrowth will have your head for shooting the rosebushes!"

"Dan!" Sam smiled as the prince went back to laughing.

"SHOOTING THE ROSEBUSHES!" the gardener shouted as he suddenly dropped the sack of fertilizer, "MY BABIES!"

Ignoring the flower bulbs tearing at the sack, the ghost immediately picked up his shovel and headed towards the voices with great speed. Sam decided to follow him figuring he would eventually lead her to Dan while he sought vengeance for his "babies." Several turns later proved her to be right. Sam found a servant smirking at what appeared to be a man made entirely of metal with green flaming hair and matching goatee. And there was Dan. She recognized his odd skin tone and his fiery hair as white as she would picture an angel's wings. He didn't notice her immediately, however, for he was lying on his side shaking with laughter.

A small, green puppy noticed her however and barked with excitement. He ran towards her as fast as his little paws could with his tail wagging a mile a minute. Sam giggled and picked up the puppy as it licked her face in joy.

"YOU!" the gardener suddenly shouted, making the puppy let out a startled yip, "YOU'VE BEEN HARMING MY CHILDREN?!"

The metallic man stared, completely stupefied as the plant ghost continued shaking his shovel at him.

"What are you talking about?" he growled, irritably, "Only thing I shot was a rosebush!"

"MY PRESCIOUS CHILDREN!" the ghost Sam took to be called "Undergrowth" headed for the questioned bush and petted it lovingly, "Don't you worry, my babies. Don't cry. Daddy's here. AND YOU! YOU SHALL PERISH!"

"What the- AUGH!"

Dan stopped laughing long enough to see what the fuss was about. When he saw the gardener chasing and threatening his friend with a shovel for shooting the rosebush like the prince had predicted, he went back his guffaws. Sam watched with utter bemusement as the plant ghost chased and attempted to hack away at the metal ghost.

"STOP! OW! HITTING! OW! AT! OW! ME! OW! WITH! OW! THAT! OW! BLASTED!" he stopped and cringed as he waited for the next blow, but it didn't come. It seemed that he had outrun his opponent, "Whew! OW!"

In actuality, Undergrowth had taken a different path and snuck up to his enemy. The chase continued and with every "OW!" and curse word the victim shouted, the more excited the puppy became. After the fifteenth attempt to wriggle free, Sam placed it down and watched it join the fun. She gasped when the puppy grew to about four stories high into a menacing dog and barked with joy at the new game. That's when Dan finally looked up.

She was awake now and watching the utter chaos in the background with a mixture of shock, horror, and perhaps, a bit of amusement. Her eyes winced every now and then whenever Undergrowth would successfully attack Skulker with the shovel. He liked the color of her eyes. His mother used to have that color too before she died. Dan didn't inherit his mother's eye color and neither did his sister, unfortunately. Perhaps that's why the morning glory became his favorite flower shortly after his sister's birth. And maybe, that's what attracted Dan to Sam.

Or maybe it was because Sam hated his stepmother as much if not more as Dan did. Oh, sure, Penelope was nice when his father was alive. At least, she pretended to be nice. It was obvious to both Dan and the princess that Penelope preferred her own child to them. Mother's instincts, perhaps. It was also quite obvious that Penelope only married Father for his power, though she never let it show. In fact, Father didn't even catch on until she had Skulker falsely executed for murdering Dan, but that was an entirely different story.

Father might have been slow to catch on, but Sam certainly wasn't. The night they met upon his grave, he could sense it in her. As she talked of her unhappy engagement to his horrid stepbrother, he could catch all of her emotion and feeling towards the royal mother and son on her every word. Dan sensed her resentment to her upcoming marriage.

Or maybe, it was because she wasn't like the other girls Dan had known. Usually, the girls of his kingdom were rather shy or blatantly flirting with him in an attempt to boast they had connections to royalty. The prince had only dated two girls prior to Sam. One seemed rather nice at first, but upon their first outing quickly allowed her true colors to show. He didn't need any help to getting rid of that shallow witch.

The other lasted longer. She was a very nasty girl at first, but due to unfortunate circumstances, the girl had been knocked down several pegs and quickly humbled herself. She was rather nice when she finally cooled down. Friendly, hard-working, and not afraid to stand up for herself. But, the constant fighting between her and Dan was really off putting. Really, she was more of an opponent than a girlfriend. Their falling out was rather hard, but necessary for Dan's sanity.

And then there was Sam. Strong, like his previous date, but not afraid to question customs or slap in society's face. Society said, "Jump" and Sam asks "Why?" She reminded him of his sister really. The princess was very like that. Very stubborn, too, that often led to quarrels, but the siblings would forgive each other in the end.

Happily, he accepted her brooch and gave one of his favorite flowers to her. She talked of meeting again at her death, but, obviously he had other things in mind. Dan was rather selfish, even as a child, he had to admit that. Sharing his possessions was not a strong trait in him in life and he certainly wasn't about to abandon that in death. Sam was his and his alone to wed. Dash could find his own bride. Besides, Sam herself had said that Dash wasn't keep to marrying her, anyway.

All of these things were excellent excuses as to why they married, and yet, Dan could still not give himself a straight answer as to why he accepted her proposal.

"You're awake," he finally said, getting up to his feet. Sam turned around and blushed a bit as she nodded, "Feeling well?"

Again, she nodded before Skulker let out another curse word as the shovel went down hard on his head. The resulting exclamation captured Sam's attention again.

"Does this happen often?" she asked as Dan walked up next to her to watch.

"Yeah," he shrugged, "Especially with Skulker. You get used to it after a while."

"SPEAK FOR YOURSELF!" Skulker shouted as Undergrowth slammed the shovel on his head again.

"You think this is crazy," the servant piped up from a nearby tree branch, "You ought to see what he does to the Box Ghost when the drains are clogged with cardboard. By the way, you may want to check the drains before you take a bath or flush a toilet."

"I already heard the ki- I mean, Vlad, fly down the hall screaming at the Box Ghost for that," Sam remarked without looking up.

"It's even funnier when the queen joins the chase yelling at him while carrying spears like she's from Sparta or something."

"You know," Dan took Sam's warm hand into his own cold one, "Why don't we go somewhere with more peace and quiet?"

She looked down at the large hand engulfing her own before looking up into his eyes. They reminded her of blood, specifically, his blood. The blood he lied in as he died just as her grandmother had told her. While the person who had drawn his blood was cruel, the eyes that Sam looked into were not. They held a bit of adoration and curiosity in them. Not at all like Prince Dashiel's cold and uncaring eyes.

Sam nodded her assent still smiling. Dan bent down to pick up the quiver and bow that had dropped in the midst of his amusement.

"Cujo!" he whistled, patting at his knee.

The dog turned back and shrank down to a puppy with a joyful bark. Cujo followed his master and the new arrival, no longer paying any attention to the fun behind him or the bird poking it along.

"Yeesh," the servant winced as the shovel was once again brought down on Skulker's head, "His aim's a hell of a lot better than yours and he's an overgrown weed!"

"KEEP SQUACKING AND I'LL SHOOT YOUR BLOODY WING OFF!"

"Assuming of course your aim isn't off for mile yet again. Remember when you tried that last week and all you managed to do was shoot some daisies off their stems?"

"YOU DID WHAT TO MY POOR CHILDREN?" Undergrowth stopped chasing him for a second to process this new bit of information before picking up a nearby wheelbarrow and resuming speed, "I'LL KILL YOU!"

"DAMMIT YOU BLOODY- OW! WATCH IT! OW! HEY!"

"Wow," the vulture watched the metallic ghost hurl up into the sky, "I didn't know you could hit a man that far with a wheelbarrow. You learn something new every day."


	8. Chapter 8

**Guest: Sorry. Chaos exploding everywhere here. Updates should be soon.**

**Dragonian master: Especially if you KNOW you've been screwing nature up pretty badly…**

**ChopSuzi: So do I!**

**CSIalchemist: And more you shall have (Thanks. You too.). **

**Fun Fact: Sorry for the late update. What with finals, Christmas shopping, Christmas letter writing, birthday letter writing, illnesses, and all other sorts of stress (including having to return **_**Osmosis Jones**_** back to the school library. Sob.) everything's a bit hectic right now. Please bear with me. **

**Oh, and **_**Feline Planet**_** is still up for adoption. **

**And Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and a Happy New Year!**

The fat man carefully studied the metal container in front of him. He crouched and squint his eyes for better focus. Time seemed to pass by so slowly. He wanted so very much see the outcomes of his current project, but it wasn't ready yet. Everything would be ruined if he were to touch it.

Finally, the project whistled. Without wasting another second, he grabbed the container and lifted it high for all to see.

"Finally!" he shouted in triumph, "It is done!"

"Father," his daughter sighed at the table, "Must you do this every time you brew tea?"

Jack Fenton turned around and scowled. Jasmine Technus had removed the hood from her turquoise jumpsuit, allowing her carrot-colored hair to show. Her turquoise eyes looked at him rather wearily.

Still scowling, Jack stomped over to the table and poured tea into the empty cups in front of them.

"You're welcome," he grumbled.

"Oh, Jazz, don't be so mean. What's wrong with being proud of your accomplishments?" Dani Fenton arrived at the tea table with the small cakes she had just taken out of the oven. Her own hood was pulled down too, but instead of orange hair, she had ebony hair.

"There! See!" Jack stood up straight and patted his second daughter's head, "Somebody appreciates me!"

"There's nothing wrong with being proud of your accomplishments," Jasmine answered her sister as she stirred in a lump of sugar, "But after doing this for over and over again ever since I was born, it gets rather tiring."

"Oh, you're such a spoil sport," Dani pretended to be angry, but her blue eyes revealed her teasing, "I'll fetch Sydney and Nicolai."

She found them two minutes later in what was supposed to be the lounge, but instead got turned into another laboratory. Father and son had their heads bent down over a steel table littered with papers and gadgets.

"Now here," Nikolai poked his index finger at a spot on the blueprints they were studying, "Is where your grandfather wishes to put the power switch."

"There?" the boy pushed his goggles a bit further on the bridge of his nose, "But, that's inside the portal. How are we supposed to turn it on without getting exposed to all the ecto-radiation? And for that matter, how do we turn it off once it's on without going into the Ghost Zone?"

"Oh, God knows what's going through your grandfather's head," Nikolai sighed, "Your mother and I are still in the process of trying to convince him to relocate the switch."

"Perhaps," Dani interrupted, "You can try again. The tea's ready."

"Oh," Nikolai pulled back the hood of his orange jumpsuit, revealing his charcoal-black hair, "I was wondering what he was shouting about."

Dani moved slightly to the left so that she wouldn't block him and Sydney's way out.

"Geez," the teenage boy complained as he pulled up his own hood, "I hate these goggles. They fog up my glasses."

Dani giggled as she watched her nephew dust some imaginary dirt off his dark head before following them. Halfway back to the kitchen, she heard a knock on the front door. She sighed heavily as she went back to answer what was surely to be a policeman.

"Wonder what Father's done now?" she muttered under her breath as she opened the front door wide.

To her surprise, there was no police to greet her. Instead, there stood a tall, beautiful woman all dressed in red. She gave Dani a curious glance before speaking in a sweet tone.

"My dear, I am looking for a man called Jack Fenton. I understand he lives at this address?"

"Yes," Dani responded, while looking warily at the woman, "But we're currently taking our tea at the moment. Perhaps you would like to come back later?"

"I'll say it's an emergency," an elderly female voice spoke out from behind the woman, "If I have sit next to Lucifer's spouse a second longer, her evil presence will make me go to an early grave!"

"You know, you useless rat," a different woman spoke, "I can make you go to an earlier grave if you'd like!"

"Mother!" a man shouted, wearily, "Pamela!"

Before Dani could reply to the woman before her, her father had come up behind her.

"Dani? What's going on? Who's at the door? Whoever it is, tell him I regret nothing and I want my lawyer."

"Are you Mr. Jack Fenton?" the woman in red asked him.

"Depends. You're not with the police, are you?"

"Speaking of the police," an elderly woman managed to shove past the redheaded one despite being in a wheelchair, "Would you happen to know where I can find them? My daughter-in-law has been killed and her murderess has gone and taken her place."

"If you don't shut up, you withered worm," another redhead pushed forwards to join her mother-in-law, "You'll be the one who'll be killed!"

"Mother! Pamela!"

"Forgive these people," the taller woman managed to push herself back up to the front, "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Her Royal Highness the Queen Penelope Spectre Masters of Casper."

Dani gave the queen another wary look and began to back away from the door and into the kitchen, not that her father had noticed. He was staring wide-eyed at the queen with great interest as she continued to speak.

"I am in dire need of your assistance, Mr. Jack Fenton. You see my son- Dash? Dashiel! Come here! Don't give me that rubbish! I said Come here!"

By now the rest of the family minus Dani had joined Jack in the hallway looking both curious and bewildered. The prince, a tall, muscular blonde man sulked over to his mother's side. He would have looked handsome if he replaced the surly look he had with a smile.

"My son," Queen Penelope continued, "was to be wed this morning to Miss Samantha Manson. Unfortunately, she was kidnapped right before the vows were to be said."

"Such a tragedy!" the smaller redheaded woman wailed, "My dearest daughter snatched away before she could be married to the prince!"

"The only tragedy I see," the old woman muttered, "That she was to be married to the prince in the first place."

"Shut up, you rickety old broom!"

"Mother! Pamela!"

"Well," Jasmine stepped forward in front of her father during the quarrel, "That truly is a tragedy, I'm sure, but shouldn't you be contacting the police?"

"If my future daughter-in-law's kidnapper was an ordinary person, then yes, I would have immediately sent for the police. But the fact of the matter is, he wasn't."

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is he was not an ordinary person. In fact, I don't think he was even human!"

"Wait," Jack shoved his daughter to the floor as an excited spark gleamed in his dark blue eyes, "You mean this was a ghost?"

"He claimed to be my stepson, and I must admit he did look a bit like him. But, my stepson is dead."

"So it was a ghost!" Jack couldn't contain the excitement in his voice, "Say no more! We'll take the case!"

"We will?" Jasmine asked with a bit of confusion as she stood up and dusted herself.

"Of course we will, Jazzy Pants! Now then, you go find your sister and tell her to bring the Fenton Thermos and follow me. You should bring the Fenton Ecto-Bazookia and join her. The rest of you, pick up whatever weapons you can and go with Her Highness. I'll take the Fenton Anit-Creep Stick! Now then! I'm off!"

The queen and her company stared at the man as he practically leapt to the other side of the room, grabbed a metallic looking baseball bat, and ran out the door to the pub next door. He leapt onto a grey horse with black spots covering it, nearly crushing the poor creature. The horse let out a pained neigh as Jack landed and grabbed the reins.

"Onwards, greet steed!" he shouted, pointing his stick at some random point across the road, "Ya! Ya!"

"But, sir-" Queen Penelope tried to speak, "My palace isn't-"

But she was interrupted as the horse let out another pained cry as he was forced to gallop towards the pointed direction. Not two seconds had passed when a young, long-haired, blonde gentleman strode at the bar with a Latina girl giggling at his side. They stopped just where Jack had been and stared ahead of them.

"Oi!" the gentleman shouted, clearly annoyed, "Where's my horse?"


	9. Chapter 9

**PhantomShadow1999: I will soon!**

**ChopSuzi: Sorry, but I don't understand the reference.**

**phangirl135: She has such an interesting sense of humor, doesn't she?**

**CSIalchemist: No, no. This story is not on hiatus. I just have a lot more things going on and may not be able to update as much as I like to.**

**Fun Fact: I turned 23 on December 27****th****! Yay! Also, my mom let me buy a hundred dollars' worth of whatever I wanted on amazon for my birthday and the first thing I ordered was the **_**Osmosis Jones**_** DVD. Now, I won't have to get emails about returning the library's copy whenever I want to watch it.**

**More Fun Fact: **_**Feline Planet **_**is NO LONGER up for adoption. No, no one has claimed it. I just changed my mind about giving it away. I am NOT promising that I will continue with the story. But, I will say that I am considering it. Anyways, onwards to this story!**

Cujo playfully yipped and nipped at an ectopuss that had laid down in the grass for a quick nap. The creature hissed at the puppy and swatted him with one of his tentacles, but Cujo didn't mind. He thought his new friend was playing. He playfully nipped at the tentacle as it came closer. The ectopuss hissed again and started to fly away in search of a more peaceful resting place. The puppy grew into his huge form and started chasing after it, barking excitably the whole time.

Dan and Sam were sitting nearby in the grass watching Cujo the whole time. Neither had said anything for the first several minutes for fear of awkwardness and embarrassment. Finally, Dan had decided to break the silence.

"So," he said, slowly, "Are you feeling alright?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded as she let out a nervous giggle, "I'm fine."

"You like your room? You're comfortable there?"

"Oh, yes," she nodded, vigorously, "I like it a lot. It's so much better than my old room."

"Good," Dan quickly tried to think of something else to say, "Have you met everyone here?"

"I've met your parents and a couple servants like the maid, her daughter, the butlers, a few guards, and the gardener. I've also seen your friend, but I haven't talked to him. I haven't seen your sister though."

"Good," he responded.

"It's good I haven't seen your sister?" Sam asked, a bit confused, "Or it's good I've met everyone?"

"Oh, sorry. Both, really," his cheeks turned neon green as he clarified himself, "It's good you've met almost everybody, but it's also good you haven't seen the princess."

"Why?"

"Because it means she's not here in the Ghost Zone, so she must be still alive."

"She is?" Sam stared at him with amazement, "But I thought she disappeared the night you- I mean, you know, that night- I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"The night I died," Dan finished her sentence, "And you're right. She did disappear from the castle, but that doesn't mean she died, too."

"Oh. Yeah," Sam giggled nervously again, "I guess it doesn't. But, if she's still alive, where is she?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, "Mom didn't tell me. She said it would be better for everybody if nobody but Mom and my sister knew. Not even Dad knows where she is."

"Why?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," he shrugged again, "Mom didn't elaborate. She just kept repeating it's better this way."

By now, the ectopuss had successfully to wriggle itself out of the dog's jaws and fly away in terror. Cujo let out an enormous bark, begging the creature to come back and play. But it didn't listen. The great dog whined in disappointment before turning its attention to the couple. It let out an excited bark before shrinking back to a puppy and cuddling up in Sam's lap.

"Cute dog," she smiled, scratching the pup's ear, "You said his name's Cujo?"

"Yep," Dan leaned closer so he might be able to see his pet, "Dad gave him to me on my twenty-first birthday. Cujo's been my guard dog ever since."

"Your twenty-first birthday?" she asked, looking up, "So you've had him since you were alive?"

"Yep. He used to drive Lunch Lady nuts when we were all alive. Matter of fact, he still does."

The dog let out a proud yip as if he liked creating chaos during the maid's day. Suddenly, the hedges started to rustle nearby. Cujo bounded out of Sam's lap and growled at the quivering plant while he changed sized again.

"Stupid mutt," a voice sounded irritated, "Go away! Dan! Call off your stupid dog!"

Dan whistled and immediately Cujo shrank once more. A metallic arm emerged from the leaves and, with a bit of grunting, thrashing, and swearing, so did the rest of the body. Sam and Dan couldn't help but wince at Skulker's badly dented armor, especially the ones on his head. An assortment of wires stuck out from his back, arms, and chest. Electricity sparked through these wires and for a moment, Sam was worried Skulker might get a nasty shock.

"Wow," Dan said, "Undergrowth really did give you a good beating. This is the worst I've ever seen from him."

"Oh, don't you worry about me," Skulker snorted, "If I were you, I'd worry more about finding another gardener!"

"Why's that?" Sam asked.

"Because the one you've got now isn't going to be much use after I throttle him! What I'm going to do to him will be far worse than what he's done to me! I can promise you that!"

"Yeah," Dan smirked, "Sure."

"And what's that supposed to mean!"

"Skulker, I've seen you fight. You're good with mechanics and electricity and metals and all that other good stuff. But take all that away and-" Dan finished with a chuckle much to his friend's irritation.

"Oi! I can put up a good fight! If I wasn't, then why is it that Queen Penelope herself made me head knight of the entire lot? Eh? Answer me that!"

"You knew Queen Penelope?" Sam asked.

"Damn right!" he smirked and stood himself up proudly, which is rather hard to do when one is covered with dents, dirt, and leaves, "I knew her AND I served her with great pride! No offense to your father, dear boy, but Vlad was always rather silly with how he dealt with justice. Jail for assault, a fine for thievery. Utter nonsense. That doesn't punish people. All that does is teach them that brief imprisonment and a few monetary expenses will get them out of justice.

But Queen Penelope, my god, I loved that woman. An eye for an eye! That was her motto. You assault somebody, then somebody's going to be allowed to assault you! Steal your neighbor's horse, and guess what? Your neighbor can steal your horse! That was justice!

God, I loved that woman when I was alive, I did. She knew! She knew what true justice was. At least, that's what I thought."

"What changed your mind?"

"She had me executed for murdering the prince. Damned butler accused me. I can't wait until Lancer dies so I can finally wring my hands around that damned neck of his."

"For the record, Sam," Dan turned to her, "Skulker's right. He didn't kill me."

"Who did?" she asked.

"I don't really know," he sighed, "It was too dark. But whoever he was, he wasn't bulky. Not at all. Definitely not Skulker."

"Not that it matters much anyway," Skulker grumbled, "The queen took his word for it and had the execution scheduled faster than I could protest the accusation. She went and had the executioner stab me just like Dan was stabbed. Claimed it was in the name of justice, she did! Justice my shiny metal ass. I'll show her justice! You just let me back into the human world and I'll let my little dagger here do the rest! I've been practicing just for her in the petunia beds!"

"YOU'VE BEEN DOING WHAT TO MY DARLING PETUNIAS!"

"Maybe I shouldn't have said that out loud," Skulker said, quietly before rapidly heading towards the castle.

He was immediately followed by Undergrowth menacing a wheelbarrow over his head. Various shouts and screams and swearing were soon heard afterwards, but by then the couple had been used to this and paid no attention.

"So, you don't know anything about that night?" Sam asked as Cujo settled back into her lap.

"I remember Cujo growling and barking outside my chambers," Dan closed his eyes as he thought back, "That's what woke me up. Then as soon as he started barking, he suddenly stopped with some sort of pained yip. I jumped out of bed to see what was going on, but then, my door opened and I saw a silhouette of a person."

"What did he look like?"

"Tall and thin. That's all I know about him. He pushed me back and I fell. I remember feeling white-hot pain in my chest, like some sort of blade had gone through. I pushed him down and started to stand up, but I couldn't. Then another searing pain went into my back. I kicked at my attacker and tried to see if I could feel something to use as a weapon. I don't know what I picked up, but it felt heavy, so I threw it behind me, praying it would hit him. It must have because I heard him scream in pain and he stopped attacking. I tried getting up again and this time, I felt my bedposts. I struggled to get myself back on my feet, but then, he stabbed me again in the chest. I fell back to the floor and then it went black."

Sam had sat and listened to his account of that horrible ordeal. When he was through, Dan let out a dejected sigh. She picked the puppy off her lap and placed him down into the grass before curling up next to her husband and embraced him. He wrapped his own arms around her and for several minutes neither said a word. Only the chaos of Skulker and Undergrowth could be heard in the silence.

"I think that's enough about me," Dan said, softly, "What about you? How's your life been?"

Sam felt his big, thick fingers gently stroke her hair as she spoke.

"Well," a blush went to her cheeks, "My name's Sam. I'm an only child and so was my father. He owns a lot of gold mines that's been in the family for a few hundred years. In fact, it's because of those stupid mines that my mother forced me to accept Dashiel's forced proposal. Grandmother didn't like it whenever my mother would try to force her own beliefs on me. Then again, my grandmother doesn't like my mother period."

"Why not?"

"She thinks my mother married my father for money. She's right, too. My mother has eight brothers and sisters and they all lived in a run-down inn called 'The Nasty Hamburg Sandwich Inn' that her parents owned. She was forced to work there when she was seven until she married my father. He proposed after knowing her for only a week and she happily accepted it just to leave.

My father was twenty and my mother was sixteen when they married. After the wedding, she packed whatever she had and left the inn. The only time she ever went back was when her parents died in some sort of boiling accident. I remember she took me to their funeral when I was ten years old. I felt rather sorry for my dear grandparents."

"Because they died?"

"Well, yeah, that. But also because they died without ever seeing their daughter again. I told this to my mother and she said I was being ridiculous. They wrote letters to each other, so they shouldn't have missed her at all. I thought that was rather silly, but I didn't press it."

"What happened to the inn?"

"I think one of my uncles own it now. Or maybe it was an aunt. I forget."

"ARE YOU-OW! ALSO-OW! FORGETTING I'M-OW! BEING-OW! CHASED BY A COM-OW! COMPLETE LUNATIC?! OW!"

"THE ONLY LUNATIC I SEE HERE IS THE MONSTER WHO'S BEEN HARMING MY PRECIOUS CHILDREN!"

"OW! WILL YOU-OW! STOP THAT! OW!"

"NO! NOT UNTIL YOU FEEL THEIR SUFFERING!"

Sam groaned in disappointment as Dan stopped caressing her hair and stood up.

"I think I'd better go get Dad. When these two fight it can get pretty ugly pretty fast."

"AND WHERE WAS-OW! THIS SUDDEN CONCER-OW! CONCERNE OF YOURS W-OW! WHEN HE WAS CHA-OW! CHASING ME A FEW-OW! MINUTES BEFORE! OW!"

"AN EYE FOR AN EYE SKULKER! REMEMBER THAT?!"

"Do I-OW! ever. OW!"


	10. Chapter 10

**ShadowDragon357: Thank you!**

**ChopSuzi: We'll see.**

**CSIalchemist: I'm not very good when it comes to romantic scenes. But, the story's still young, so we'll see. **

**Fun Fact: School's started almost three weeks ago, so don't expect frequent updates. **

**More Fun Fact: If you recognize that last few bits at the end of the chapter, a: Cookies for you, and b: Sorry, I couldn't resist. ^_^**

The small metallic box in Jack's hands beeped and whirred as he waved it over the pews of the chapel. Nicolai and Sydney were waving similar boxes over the altar while Dani inspected the outside hallway of the chapel.

"So, let me see if I got this right, Your Majesty ," Jasmine said after interviewing the queen and the bride's parents, "Ms. Manson was due to be married to His Highness."

She looked over to the Prince Dashiel who merely grunted and sharply nodded his head once in confirmation.

"But as the couple were about to exchange vows, this alleged spirit of your stepson appeared and claimed that Ms. Manson was already married to him."

"Which is a complete lie!" Pamela interrupted, "All just because Samantha was silly enough to give him her brooch, and why she would do that, I will never understand, he thinks he's her husband! And then he has the nerve to say that some stupid flower is supposed to prove she's his wife as if it's some sort of sign!"

"Maybe," Ida smirked, "When she saw the ghost's sign, it opened up her eyes. After all, life is demanding without understanding-"

"We're supposed to be in the early 20th century! That stupid song doesn't even exist until 1993, now shut up and follow the damned script, you idiotic mealworm!"

"Mother! Pamela!"

"Well," Ida pouted, "You're no fun."

"Okaaaaaaaaay," Jasmine said as she ruffled through her copy of the script, forgetting what she was supposed to be asking the queen. For the record it's supposed to be about what flower was Pamela talking about, "Oh! Right! Flower? What flower?"

"Oh, she had some silly, purple little flower in her bouquet. Rather showy, if you ask me. He says she got it from his grave, which is rather disgusting. I do hope she took care to clean herself after touching that disgusting thing."

"By the way, Jeremy, that reminds me," Ida turned to her son, "Did you remember to brush your teeth after you kissed Pamela's hand just an hour ago? You don't know where that thing's been!"

"I'd like to clean the Earth from you, you filthy sack of useless bones!"

"Mother! Pamela!"

"You wouldn't happen to still have the bouquet, would you?"

"No, I'm afraid not, dear," Queen Penelope answered, "I remember that I dropped the bouquet after he stole Samantha away, but what happened to it, I don't know. He may have taken it with him."

"Well, we can look into that later. So anyways, he shows up, gives her brooch and a flower as proof of their marriage, and then that's when he kidnapped her, right?"

"Correct, dear. He just snatched her up and disappeared into thin air."

"Impossible, Mother," Prince Dashiel snorted, "No man can disappear into thin air."

"No live man," Her Highness asserted, "We've got no proof that says dead men can't either."

"We've got no proof the man's dead."

"Are you daft? Did you not hear nor witness me command the guards to search all over this kingdom for your bride?"

"Well, they aren't looking hard enough, I say. And who says she's to be my bride? We don't even like each other."

"Dashiel, we've been through this argument numerous times and I don't care to go through it again!"

"I can't believe I'm actually saying this," Ida interrupted, "But then again, I could never believe that Jeremy actually went through with marrying Pamela in the first place-"

"There'd better be some sort of point in this interruption, you wrinkled witch!"

"Mother! Pamela!"

"As I was saying, I can't believe I'm actually saying this, but for once, I agree with your son! Not only is it obvious that Sam doesn't care for Prince Dashiel, but he doesn't care for Sam! So why go through this madness! They seem perfectly happy without each other!"

"That's not the point of the marriage!" the Queen said, coldly.

"No, it's not! It's the same reason that Satan's twin sister gone and married my son!"

"You seem to know a lot about this Satan and Lucifer person, you horrid devil!"

"Mother! Pamela!"

"It's plain greed pure and simple!"

"I'm having these two marry for the greater good."

"The greater good for your vaults."

"The greater good for my country and my son's!"

The entire Fenton family stopped and stared at the fight, not sure if they should do something like step in, stop it, or even move from their current spot. Luckily, their quarrel was interrupted by Dani.

"Well," she sighed, "I've checked the hallway, the priest's office, outside, the graveyard, I even checked the damn confession booth, but I've picked my Fenton Finder's picked up no trace of paranormal activity."

"Neither has mine," her nephew whined as he stood himself up after crawling on his knees for the past thirty minutes, "And Father hasn't gotten anything either."

"Unfortunately," Jack joined the rest of the group, "It seems that none of us has picked up any traces of this ghost. But, don't worry! Jack Fenton always has a Plan B!"

"You do?" Nicolai looked in disbelief at his father-in-law.

"Since when?" Jasmine joined in.

"I'll tell you, Jazzy Pants! In private. Will you all excuse us for a moment?"

He took his daughter's shoulders and steered her out into the chapel's hallway before letting go. She turned around and cast an accusing glare before he had time to speak.

"You don't actually have a Plan B, do you?"

"No, I don't. I had it in there for a second, but then Ida went and started singing Ace of Base and it just sort of threw me off there from that point on. So, I was hoping you'd have a Plan B."

"Alright," she sighed as she closed her eyes, "Let me think. Let's see, we have no trace of the ghost, but maybe he touched something while he was here."

"And when he touched something," her father's midnight eyes glowed with excitement, "he left a slimy trail of ectoplasm behind!"

"Okay, Dad, first of all, you need to stop watching _Ghostbusters _while snacking on Oreos and chili dogs after two in the morning. Second of all, I'm not talking about ectoplasm. I'm talking about ectoprints."

"What?"

"You know, like fingerprints, only the ghost leaves behind some of its ecto-energy when it touches something, thus we have an ectoprint and each ectoprint is unique to each ghost, just like fingerprints!"

"Okay, so we get the ghost's ectoprint. And then what?"

"Then, we can scan the print and record the ecto-energy it gives off into our new invention-"

"Oh, that reminds me Jazzy, I've picked out a name for it!"

"Really? What are you naming it?"

"I've decided to call it the Fenton Boooo-merang! Pretty catchy, huh?"

"Um, sure let's go with that. Anyways, we can use the invention-"

"Ahem!"

"Ugh. The Boo-merang-"

"You didn't use enough oooooo's!"

"Fine. The Boooooooooooooooooooooo-merajng, was that enough oooooooooo's?"

"Perfect!"

"So, we can use it to track the ghost down in the Ghost Zone. But first, we need to get that Portal working."

"I can send Nicolai back home to work on it. It should almost be done. But, where are we going to find an ectoprint?"

"Wait a minute."

She walked back into the chapel and approached the queen.

"Your Highness, I know you said that you don't know where the wedding bouquet is, but I'm hoping if you could maybe have some sort of clue to its whereabouts?"

"No, dear, I'm afraid I don't. I dropped it, but I don't remember seeing it again."

"Did this ghost touch anything other than the flower in the bouquet?"

"He had an amulet, but I think he left it behind. And he touched the bride of course."

"The scandal!" Pamela cried in despair, "He has no right to touch a lady he's not married to!"

"I'm sorry," Ida gave Pamela an odd look, "Were you in the lavatory when he came in and said 'You can't marry her. I'm her husband.'?"

"What's your point, you noisy sack of bagpipes?"

"Mother! Pamela!"

"Whether or not he's actually married to Sam doesn't matter. So long as he thinks he's her husband, he's going to think he has a right to touch her as his wife!"

"My point for all these questions, Your Majesty," Jasmine interrupted, "is that I'm trying to see if there is anything this ghost has touched so that we may have his ectoprint. It works like a fingerprint, only for ghosts."

"You think this might help bring Samantha back?" the queen asked, thoughtfully, "Well, I have no idea where the bouquet is, as I've said, but I'll have every guard, priest, and servant search this place and my palace thoroughly."

"It doesn't necessarily have to be the flower. It could also be the amulet you mentioned, or a piece of the bride's wedding garments that she had been wearing."

"I'll have everyone keep a sharp lookout for these items," Queen Penelope promised, "In the meantime, what do we do?"

"We'll keep looking for any of this ghost's trace with our Fenton Finders, though I fear we'll not have much success unless and until we have these items I've mentioned."

"And, just exactly what are we going to do with these items?" Nicolai asked his wife after the others had gotten out of earshot.

"I'll explain it to you while I get you a carriage. Father wants you back home to finish the Portal. I'll watch Sydney."

Dani watched her sister and Nicolai talk while Jack went back and forth with his Fenton Finder for the sixth time. Sydney had complained to his mother about his hunger just a moment ago and was offered a snack by the queen. As Her Highness ordered several sandwiches to be prepared, Dani risked a glance at the royal figure over her shoulder. The prince had joined his mother and placed his own order for several bottles of wine. Dani rolled her eyes not in the least bit surprised. The queen was urging Sydney out of the chapel. Instinctively, Dani sprinted towards them and roughly grabbed his arm.

"OW!" Sydney shouted, "Aunt Dani, that hurt!"

"Oh," the two royal figures were staring at her now, making her sweat with a mixture of nerves and fear, "Sorry. I wanted to know where you were going."

"Sorry, dear," the queen apologized. Dani almost snorted, "I should have let you know about his whereabouts. We're going to enjoy a snack in the dining hall. Would you care to join us?"

She quickly accepted, not really hungry. She just wanted to keep a careful eye on Sydney. She asked for a glass of milk, but didn't drink it. She had learned her lesson last time. Throughout the entire twenty minute snack break, Dani never took her eyes off Sydney except to stare in amazement at the argument going on behind her.

"Mother, I wish you wouldn't harp on Pamela so much. She means the world to me, you know."

"Sure," Ida snorted, "She means the world to you, never mind that I was the one that brought you into it in the first place."

"You know what I mean, Mother."

"It wasn't easy giving birth to you, you know."

"Mother, please, not again."

"I was in labor with you forty-eight hours!"

"Alright, I get it!"

"On the twelfth hour, I thought that was going to be it! That was when I was going to have you!"

"Mother! Please!"

"I pushed and I pushed and I pushed! I nearly shat myself three times during that, you know."

"Oh God."

"Tell me about it!" she continued, ignoring Jeremy's retching in the background, "As a matter of fact I actually did piss the sheets once though. You knows, those nurses aren't as nice as they ought to be on those sensitive subjects!"

"Please let it end soon."

"No, those nurses weren't at all like those nice ones I had when I had to get that bladder removed. You remember that one, Jeremy?"

"If I say yes, will you not ever mention it again?"

"It was the one where this one time I pissed so much blood, I thought my kidneys were going to fall out right then and there! Or, was it that time I got that nasty gash on my leg and it became so infected that you could practically hear the puss squishing as I walked about?"

"Please, you're going to make me vomit!"

"Speaking of which, remember that time I vomited up so much bile, I thought I was going to vomit out my stomach by the time we got to the hospital! You remember how the doctor said it was nastiest, smelliest, and blackest thing he had ever seen?"

"Excuse me while I wipe my eyes."

"Speaking of wiping-"

"God Mother! No!"


End file.
